


The Watsons go to Disney World (or 12)

by Danagirl623



Series: Parentlock [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cockslut Sherlock, Disney, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Family Vacation, Fireworks, M/M, Oral Sex, PTSD, Parentlock, Sex, Trains, dom! john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-06 10:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14639571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: The Watsons go to Walt Disney World in America.I'm sure this will be a fluffy piece, as I love Disney and I could see Sherlock absolutely turn into a giant child. But apparently I enjoy torturing myself to see how bad my gay sex scenes can be.It is part of the "Parentlock" series but you don't have to read the rest to read this one. They all sort of stand alone.If you wonder how John and Sherlock got together in this series, you can read my "How John Watson Came Home" story. It's short. Only 5 chapters.Thank you for reading.Of course, comments and kudos are encouraged.





	1. The proposal

Boxing day at the Watson household was a quiet affair. Mycroft slept over Christmas night and stayed late on Boxing day. Everyone, but John, played the violin. Sometimes he sang, but only when Rosie put him up to it. This particular Boxing day- the one we’re discussing- was quite unusual for even the Watson-Holmes family. Rosie was hiding in her bedroom with her dog, Captain. Mycroft had decided to imbibe in some quality whiskey. John had indulged, the first time in two years. Sherlock, ever the recovering addict, abstained.

  
To be honest, the Holmes brothers had engineered this evening for one purpose. To coax John into a more adventurous mood and willing to agree to what they were proposing. Finally when Sherlock felt it was safe to proceed with the conversation (meaning that John had hit that delicate balance between too sober and too drunk), he said the previously agreed upon phrase.

  
“Husband mine, Rosie is becoming quite the little botanist.”

  
“It’s true, Dr.” Mycroft smiled at John. “She’s already working on freshman year of college work. That’s something her Papa hadn’t mastered until he was sixteen.”

  
Sherlock let that comment go, this wasn’t about besting Mycroft. It was about getting John to agree to a field trip. John grinned. He loved hearing his daughter was excelling.

“She’s doing so well because of you and her dear papa. Although his knowledge of literature is appalling. Thank God that I know it.”

  
Sherlock beamed at him, “That’s why I keep you around. That huge sexy brain of yours.” John’s ear flushed. “Babe! Mycroft found this flower and garden show. It’s huge! Acres upon acres.”

  
“I heard the food is quite delicious.” Mycroft added, swirling his whiskey.

  
“They have a zoo, too!” Sherlock added, grinning. “The hotel has giraffes that live there.”

  
John looked at his husband trying to follow his train of logic. Which truthfully after all these years still wasn’t easy. Most days John was only a step behind. Now, John was still in the station. “What?”

  
“We’re proposing a two week field trip to a large amusement park that holds an annual Flower and Garden show. It also has a zoo on property.” Mycroft said simply, with a pointed look at his brother his childish excitement.

  
“I like the idea of a vacation.” John agreed. “But where is this?”

  
“America.”

  
John nodded, sipping his whiskey. His processes were so slow. Sherlock wanted to go to America to a large garden show and sleep in a zoo. “Are there beds in the zoo?”  
“Yes, love.” Sherlock giggled, seeing his drunken sweetheart reason it out. He was using the pet names for two reasons. One to express love for his husband, but also annoy Mycroft who accepted the union as long as he didn’t see any public displays of affection.

  
“Can we take Rosie?”

  
“Yes, my love.” Sherlock grinned. “We could ask Mrs. H to watch Capt.”

  
John nodded, musing. “I do have vacation time.”

  
“John! There’s a train there!” Sherlock enthused, excitedly.

  
“That’s…” John waved his hand around wildly. “Great!”

 

“So, John, my dear heart, will you go with us to Walt Disney World?”

  
John squinted at him. “Only if we’re sleeping in a zoo and riding on a real train.

  
Mycroft smiled at John, and said sweetly to Sherlock. “You are in so much trouble tomorrow.”

  
“Pffft. My husband is always in trouble.” John slurred, laughing.

  
Sherlock nodded his head, “Yes I will, but it will be worth it.”

 

 

The next morning, Sherlock left the apartment as soon as he could. He knew better than to be around when his hungover grouch of a husband woke up. He made sure his lover had water and paracetamol waiting for him. He left a note for his family before he went to St. Bart’s. Molly gave him his usual work space. Sherlock quickly lost himself in his work.

  
John entered the lab silently hours later. He waved a greeting to Molly. He walked over to his husband and waited with his arms crossed. He heard Sherlock’s cell phone vibrate. That would be Rosie texting her papa. Sherlock ignored it. John chuckled to himself. Somewhere the low, dangerous chuckle registered in Sherlock’s mind. It was familiar. John! Sherlock tore himself away from the work. “Hi love!”

  
“Sherlock, my head is pounding. I need you to answer a very serious bloody question. Did you manipulate me into agreeing to a trip to Walt Disney World?” Mutely Sherlock nodded. “I should kick your ass!”

  
“John.” Sherlock whined, twisting toward him. The word “Baskerville” flashed in his mind. “Shit.” he slumped.

  
“You could ask. I’d have readily agreed.”

  
“You would?”

 

“Yes, absolutely. I’ve always wanted to take Rosie.”

 

“Have you been before?”

  
“Never, but it’s the quintessential childhood goal.” John said, slightly relaxing his stiff posture. “Was Mycroft behind this?” Again, Sherlock nodded. “I hate his Slytherin ass. He’s a great politician, but as a familial man he’s fucking terrible.”

  
“Are you mad at me?”

  
“Yes, a bit.”

  
“I deserve it.” Sherlock agreed. “Wanna get dressed up and go on a date with me tonight?”

  
“Football practice, baby. Take away and snuggles?”

 

“Sold.” Sherlock grinned at his husband.

  
“Tonight after football practice, Molly and Greg are taking Rosie for the next few nights. Rosie asked for a break from us.”

  
Sherlock’s eyes grew in surprise. “No kid? That means no trousers!”

  
John giggled. “And no pants if I’m lucky.” Sherlock leaned in for a kiss. John compiled, a bit rough. All was not forgiven just yet. “I still have that headache. You know I’m on christmas break if you’d like to come home with me. You could-” John leaned very close and said in a seductive tone. “Nurse me back to health.” John bit Sherlock’s pulse point on his neck to drive his point home.

  
Sherlock gasped, and bite his own lip, “Unfair.” He tried not to moan.

  
“Boys.” Molly’s voice rang out. “That sort of display puts off my specimens. Please stop.”

  
“We’ll see you tonight, Molly.” Sherlock grinned, pushing his husband towards the exit.

  
“Ta, Molly!”

 

Later that night, once the sex was had, the football practiced, the showers had (technically only one shower) Sherlock ordered take away on his phone. The two men sat on the couch and cuddled. Idly they discussed the previous two weeks. Rosie had a difficult maths test that she got full marks on. John told Sherlock about the upcoming test Rosie had on the American classics. Surprisingly,Sherlock didn’t argue with John.

  
The delivery woman interrupted them mid school discussion. To John’s slight embarrassment, Sherlock answered the door in his pants. The delivery woman eyed him appreciatively, even the fading bruises didn’t make her turn away. Sherlock must have picked up on it, and blurted out. “You really need to get that blood clot in your left arm check out.” he signed the credit card slip and tipped her 10 pounds. Sherlock took the food and went into the living room. “3.5 mm blood clot lodged in cephalic vein after boyfriend threw her down the steps six weeks ago.” He murmured to John. Showing off for John was still a habit that Sherlock had yet to break (not that he was trying too hard to succeed.) He slouched down on the couch with the food.

  
“Shit, Sherlock.” John groaned. “Why do you tell me these things?”

  
“I’ll report it, John. I know the online reporting form to fill out and I’m a faster typer than you.” Sherlock handed John the food, and pulled the laptop onto his lap. He filled out the form, and submitted it in no time.

  
“You did the right thing, babe.” John said, leaning into him. Sometimes the deductions flew out of Sherlock’s mouth before his mind could stop them. It was frustrating for John to deal with the consequences, but overwhelming for Sherlock to have them in the first place. The fact that Sherlock has stopped censoring them to spare John’s feelings was a point of pride with John.

  
“It was the John Watson thing to do.”

  
“I’m glad to see you skipped the Mycroft Holmes route.”

  
Sherlock grinned, basking in John’s praise. “I live to serve the noble house Black.”

  
“Is that a quote you remembered or Rosie taught you?”

  
“Rosie. I don’t waste my time with fiction.”

  
“So, Disney?” John asked, tucking into his pad thai.

  
Sherlock nodded. “It’s really interesting. The educational opportunities there. Botany, physics, astro-”

  
“Admit it. You just want to go for the trains.”

  
“And the fireworks.” Sherlock grinned. “Plus, the thought of taking Rosie makes me unbelievably giddy. I know in reality it will be stupid. I’ll probably be overwhelmed by deductions and unable to focus on the fun.”

  
“Hey, I’ll be right there. We’ll step away. We’ll talk about it. I’ll bring you a headset and we’ll add music to your phone.”

  
“I’ll bring my anti-anxiety medication.”

  
“Will you take them?”

  
“Yes!”

  
John looked at him, realizing how serious Sherlock was about this trip. “How much planning have you done?”

  
“A bit.” I was hoping to get some more done. I picked the restrau-”

  
“You’re crazy.” John laughed.

  
“I read the guide.”

  
“The what?”

  
“Burnham’s guide.” Sherlock said, untangling himself from the couch. He disappeared downstairs to his office and brought the research back. He curled up to his husband. He slid him the guide. John saw many tabs on the side. John flipped to one and saw a few highlights, but also a lot of pen marks or comments. John suddenly saw eight year old Sherlock solving his first case. That cherubic face and curls bouncing as he documented in his sleuthing book the details and outcome. John felt a rush of love for his husband. He kissed Sherlock’s cheek.

  
“Look at all this work you did!”

 

“I’m thorough.” Sherlock shrugged, leaning into him. “I’m an odd human. I crave excitement but I hate the crowds, loud unexpected noises, and the people.”  
  
“It’s called sensory overload, Sherl. You’re not off at all. We’ve got plenty of coping mechanisms. You and I can do anything.” John said, paging through the book.

  
“You have PTSD too. Why aren’t you affected by it?”

  
“I’m lucky.” John said, wryly. “I get the vivid nightmares and claustrophobia.”

 

“You get me too.” Sherlock said, sweetly. After eleven years of marriage Sherlock still loved to claim John Watson in all sorts of ways and yes, that includes romantic statements.

  
“That’s the best part of this whole life.” John kissed his husband’s cheek again. “Now what is all this?” He waved his hand as his cheeks pinked. Sometimes John remembered dirty things about Sherlock in the more innocent moments. This time it was Sherlock on all fours with his pretty arse up in the air while he read sonnets and John slammed into him. John flushed pinker, remembering the way he would stutter when John would hit his prostate. John cleared his throat trying to push the thoughts away. He looked defiantly in his husband’s eyes who had requested to see John struggle to master himself in embarrassed moments. Sherlock grinned at him.

  
“Sonnets.” he deducted, watching the desire in John’s eyes. “I’m the luckiest bastard to get to see this side of you.”

  
“This side of me is all you.” John replied, cheekily. “Egomaniac.” he cleared his throat and held the book up again. “What is all this?”

  
“Research.” Sherlock said, reaching his hand down to John’s pants. His soft hand petted what it found. John chewed his lip trying to ask for details. Sherlock made sweeping strokes with his palm. “What do you say, Love? Three times today?”

  
John whimpered feeling his penis grow hard. He was sated an hour ago. “Damn you, Sherlock Watson.” Sherlock felt a thrill of excitement hearing his full name.

  
“The place we’re going.” Sherlock started pulling John’s dick out of his pants. It was leaking a bit. Sherlock took his palm and covered it with pre-cum. He used this to stroke John. He went slow, then built up speed, then slowed again. He did this while he told John about the trip. While everyone knew about Sherlock’s praise kink, no one knew how much John loved to get off to Sherlock’s velvety voice. “There’s a pool. It looked really… Wet… The rooms have two beds in them… Ground to floor windows. Animals are there and room service.” John was panting and listening to Sherlock’s voice, but not the words. He was close and he knew Sherlock could tell.

  
“Do it.” He growled at his husband. Sherlock grinned and dropped to his knees with a wicked grin. Sherlock wasted no time in swallowing John down. He licked the shaft as he swallowed. John grabbed his curls and groaned. “You are such a cock slut. You fall to your knees quicker than any woman-” John cut himself off. That statement was breathier and more feral than I’m able to describe because John was coming-No. He was flying. His body is light and joyful and Sherlock’s.

  
Sherlock reluctantly sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with a smirk. He used his own hand to get himself off quickly. Suddenly he was starving. When John finally came down, it took him a moment to realize where he was. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs. “Cock slut” he muttered, tucking himself back into his underwear.

  
“Your cockslut.”

  
John snuggled himself into Sherlock’s arm, blissed out. “So, Disney?”

 

“Yes, my love.”

  
“Your idea?”

  
“Mycroft’s.”

  
“Hmmm.” John replied, lounging against Sherlock’s body. “So that thing that you just did was pretty amazing.”

  
“The hand job?”

 

“The mouth bit. I love your pretty mouth.” John traced a finger over Sherlock’s mouth. “I love your voice too. Actually, I prefer all of you.”

  
“John, I’m very excited for Disney.”

  
“Do you hear me telling you how great you are?”

  
“I do, babe, but Disney!”

  
John sighed. This obsessed man of his. He wasn’t going to stop talking about Disney until he said all he had to say. John leaned away from Sherlock and turned to face him. “Go ahead, baby.” John pulled his legs up on the couch and grabbed his abandoned his dinner. “Starving.”

  
“Ice cream?” Sherlock offered, ordering it without permission.

  
“Caramel sundae with cookie dough ice cream.”

  
“Ordered.” Sherlock grinned. We got a room with a Savannah view for the first week. I looked up videos. It’s incredible. I also have a lot of great places to eat. I have a dinner show planned for the first day because I know it will upset Mycroft.”

  
“He’s coming with us?”

  
“Yes.” His husband nodded, finishing his dinner. “He is excited to see rosie have fun.”

  
“That’s going to be fun.” John said, sarcastically. “Think about all the torture we can inflict. I know all the things he hates. Crowd participation and greasy food and roller coasters.”

  
“So we’re going to torment him mercilessly?”

  
“Only one or two things a day.” Sherlock admitted with a grin.

  
John stood up to get the ice cream delivery. He signed the slip and tipped well. Once Sherlock realized his husband was happier when he handled the money, he did it with relish. Everytime John went for money, it was there. Sherlock often assured him of this. What John didn’t know, because Mycroft had said it would overwhelm him, was that the three Watsons would never have to worry about money again.

  
“Hey,” Sherlock grinned at him, taking his ice cream. “You got lost. You ok?”

  
“Yeah. Just thinking about money.”

  
“What queer happenings occur in that head of yours.”

  
“Are you quoting?” John crinkled his eyes at his husband adoringly. He had adopted this habit of quoting especially to test Rosie.

  
“Source unknown if I am.” Sherlock shrugged. John curled up on the couch next to his love. “Then the next week we’re staying at the Grand Floridian. It’s on the monorail route.”

  
“Sherl, how much is this going to cost us?” John’s anxiety was speaking. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t.

  
Sherlock blinked at John. “Thousands.”

  
“Why are you spending this?”

  
Sherlock looked confused. “For a vacation. Memories, John.” He drawled out.

  
“I barely make three grand a month from my teaching and writing. I can’t afford this.”

  
Sherlock looked at him, sharply. “John Watson. I’m the money boss. It’s under control.”

  
John took a deep breath, and looked at him. “I wish I hadn’t asked.”

  
Sherlock held his hand out to his John. He took it. “You remember that when we wed, I was able to access my trust fund?” John nodded. “The money we’re living off currently is the interest of some account Mycroft set up for us. Your paychecks-all of them, teaching, writing, detecting, have been going into Rosie’s already sizable trust fund.”

  
John had watched his face the whole time he was talking. He felt his panic ebb away. “So we have money?”

  
“Yes my love.”

  
“Is that why you buy 40 pounds pants?” John teased.

  
“They’re only 25 pounds.” Sherlock grinned at his husband. “You do look quite delicious in those 25 pound pants and even better out of them.”

  
“Cheeky.” John teased, leaning into him. “So we’re ok?”

  
“Moneywise, beyond ok. Personally, never better. Sexually, I’m happy.”

  
“Do you even have a travel passport?” Again, his anxiety leaked out.

  
“Mycroft has handled it.”

 

“So what do I have to do?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Yes, my love. I’ll do the packing, arrange transport, hotels, meals. Whatever my husband wants is is his.”

  
“Text me the dates so I can take off.”

  
“I ran into your Dean the other day. He needed a bit of help. Drug sales on campus. I figured it out, of course.”

  
“Wesley.” John said, amazed. “Uh the history professor.” Sherlock hated history. John giggled. Sherlock nodded. John marveled at his partner. He felt a warmth spread through him. “You are a better man than I knew you were.”

  
“O, no, John. I simply ask myself “What would John do?” John would see what he could do to help. So I helped.” Sherlock shrugged, bringing John’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

  
“You are, by far, a better man than any one knows. I could punch Mycroft for trying to ruin your good heart.”

  
“You’ve got all the reasons in the world to punch him. Yet, you refrain.” sherlock grinned. “You should do that in Disney. I’m awfully curious about Disney jail.” John cocked his eyebrow at Sherlock. “There’s all these rumors about it. I’m figuring it out.” Sherlock grinned.

  
“I’m not getting arrested by a mouse so you can confirm internet rumors.” John said, firmly.

  
“JOOOOOHN!” Sherlock complained.


	2. Day 1/14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is ten pages on google. I think I need to be stopped.  
> Also it's a little smutty.

The morning of the trip dawned bright. Sherlock was laying in bed feeling very wiggly. He was excited to go on vacation. The trains, fireworks, and the science!

  
“Baby.” John groaned. “You are so fucking wiggly this morning.”

  
“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t sit still.”

  
“Yes, love.” John yawned. Sometimes Sherlock did need to be held physically down to relax. John was feeling lazy so he climbed on top of Sherlock. He stretched his whole body out and settled his head on Sherlock’s chest. He could practically feel his heart beat out “trains, fireworks, and science!” Sherlock brought his long elegant fingers up on John’s neck and gripped it. “You are the wiggliest adult I’ve ever met. More wiggly than baby Rosie.”

  
“I don’t think I’ve been this excited for a non-murder thing since I pet a penguin!” Sherlock started to run his hand up and down John’s back.

  
“Do you have your check list?”

  
“Yes, next to my keys.”

  
“Are you truly excited to do this?”

 

“Yes, my love. You know-”

  
“Yes, my love. Trains, fireworks, science.”

  
“Mycroft is cakes, ice creams, scones.”

  
“Rosie is no school, no school, boys.”

  
“John is guns, safety, sex.” Sherlock giggled, still wiggling under John. He kissed his head then added, “also, danger, smut, and beer.”  
John responded by biting his husband’s chest. “Mean.”

  
“I forgot bitey, fighty, and fucky.” Sherlock giggled harder.

  
“Go walk Captain.” John dismissed, rolling off him. It was useless to stop to contain him together.

  
“Can’t we fuck instead?”

  
“Oh my god. Just go walk the dog.” John repeated. “Your Rosie is awake. I hear her pace upstairs.”

  
“She’s playing violin. Headsets.”

 

“Go walk the dog.” John instructed, sitting up. “I need to bathe and see about a hair cut this morning.”

  
“No! You can’t cut your hair.” Sherlock tinged pink. “I like having something to pull on.”

  
John grinned at his admission. They had recently started having more sex, like they did in the beginning when Rosie was a baby. While John loved the very active sex life they were having, he didn’t want to parade it around his preteen daughter. Sherlock didn’t understand the social cue of why it was not good to show off. John tried to explain it, but it only made them both frustrated.

  
Sherlock huffed. “Please John. Turn my brain off. I’ve already wanked twice-”

  
“No sex! Go walk the dog. No murders. No mysteries. No puzzles.”

  
“Your rules are terrible.”

  
“I’m trying to protect you from yourself, you cock! Do you want trains, fireworks, and science?”

  
“John. You know I do!”

  
“Then, for once in your life, obey.”

  
Sherlock scowled at him, but got out of bed anyways. “No haircut.” Sherlock said.

  
“No haircut.” John agreed.

  
Sherlock kissed John as a way of saying goodbye. John wrinkled his nose, but Sherlock shook his head. John was complaining about his morning breath. Sherlock was telling him not to be ridiculous. Sherlock left the bedroom and went out to the kitchen. He found the dog lazing about on the floor by the steps up to Rosie’s room. Sherlock hooked him up to the leash and left with him.

  
Sherlock walked lazily through his city. He stayed away from the touristy spots. He stuck to the beating heart of his London. His mistress. His first love. His steadiest companion. This city has brought him everything good in his life. A thriving career, friends, family, and most importantly John Watson. It also brought him a raging coke addiction, but one bad thing compared to the countless good things, there was no comparison. London was his home. These thoughts carried him back to 221B Baker Street.  
When he walked in the apartment, Rosie and John were eating left over take away and chatting excitedly.

  
“Hi Papa!” Rosie grinned in greeting.

  
“Hi baby!” He smiled. “Captain is all settled with Mrs. H.”

  
“Rosie.” John grinned at his daughter, tattling. “Papa Lock didn’t sleep last night and tried to get his lips on me!”

  
“I succeeded, Rosie. I didn’t try.”

  
“Daddy John.” Rosie giggled. “I have it from a reliable source that you are a kiss stealer and you probably trapped my poor Papa Lock into it.”

  
“Brat!” John gasped. “Someone’s been spreading lies about me.”

  
“My poor Papa!” She said. “You’re defiling his character.” John gave Sherlock a very stern “don’t you fucking dare say anything” look. “My Papa Lock is nothing but a gentleman.”

  
“Yeah, Daddy John. I never kiss and tell.” Sherlock grinned at John.

  
“Sherlock Watson, you have ruined my daughter. She is completely on your side and I feel it’s divorce worthy.”

  
“Now, who’s a drama king?”

  
“Still you.”

  
“Papa, Do you want trains, fireworks, and science?” Sherlock nodded. “Daddy, why are you going this trip again?”

  
“Roller coasters.” John said, but Sherlock said at the same time “Guns, sex, beer.”

  
“Arse.” John said, elbowing Sherlock.

  
Sherlock hissed. “Inappropriate.” before he leaned over and snatched up John’s food.

  
John turned to the glare at his daughter. “You are the biggest brat. “Uncle Myc, take me on a field trip!” he’s like “Cambridge? Oh no. that’s not good enough for my princess. Holland? That’s not good enough. Space? Too risky. I know, America! I’ll take her-””

  
“Dad. Stop.” She groaned, throwing her container in the trash.

  
“Rosie, remember when you were eight and told us,” Sherlock imitated his best Rosie voice at the next sentence. “Don’t you ever leave me with that weirdo again.” Sherlock added John’s container to the trash. John was smirking behind his coffee.

  
Rosie sighed. “I didn’t know Uncle Myc then. He’s a good guy.” John snorted. “And we have a lot in common.”

  
“If you mean “pompous, manipulative ass” by good guy, then I agree.”

  
“John, you have to admit that Mycroft is a better man for loving his Watson.” Sherlock pointed out. “There’s something to be said about a Watson’s effect on the Holmes men. I wonder how we could create an experiment to write it up.”

  
Rosie rolled her eyes. “I don’t tolerate his dumbness. When he starts I stare at him until he retracts his dumbness. When all else fails, I bite.”

  
“Biting is the best way to control the Holmes men.” John agreed.

  
Sherlock huffed and pulled his checklist over. “I usually just pinch Mycroft.” He said, quietly before he got absorbed into his list.

  
**Luggage**  
 **Magic Bands**  
 **Chargers**  
 **Money/Credit Card**  
 **ID**  
 **Capt**

At the bottom in very Johnlike scroll:  
**JW to get a haircut**  
 **SW stop trying to fuck JW all the time.**

“Johnnn!” he groaned. “You wrote on my list.”

  
“I did not!” John said, holding out his hands. Sherlock picked up the right hand and examined it for ink stains. He looked at the nail beds and under the way. “No smudges, but I know your writing. Confess Mr. Watson and law shall be kind.”

  
John smirked with an evil glint in his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want the “the law” to be kind.”

  
“Daaaaads!” Rosie would have groaned if she hadn’t been texting Uncle Mycroft and totally absorbed in it.

  
_Hurry. RW_  
 _Yes, Princess. 10 minutes. MH_  
 _My dads are flirting and I’m sick. RW_  
 _Gross. MH_  
 _Totally. Can I sleep in your room? RW_  
 _On vacation? MH_  
 _Are surprised dear uncle? RW_  
 _Yes you may. MH_  
 _I’m here. MH_

 

“He’s here!” She shrieked, startling both of her Dads. She stood up and ran downstairs shouting, “Uncle Myc!” She burst out of 221B Baker Street and threw her arms around his neck.

  
“Hello Princess.” He smiled kindly, hugging her back. “Are you ready to go?”

  
“Yes, Uncle Myc. Come upstairs please. Dads are still goggling at each other.” Rosie linked her arm with her Uncle’s. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  
They got to the top of the stairs to see her Dads reviewing the list together. “Hello, brothers mine.” Mycroft grinned at the two Watsons. Most days, the brothers had a good relationship, but a bit of a rocky one with John. John actually preferred it that way. Anything that made Sherlock happy made John happy. The fact that Mycroft called John his “brother mine” tickled Sherlock to no end so John accepted it.  
  
“Hello Myc.” John said, elbowing Sherlock in the ribs.

  
“Hi Mycroft.” he said distractedly. He zipped up his slate gray backpack and slung it over his back. He grabbed one of the rolling luggage cases. John grabbed the other two.

  
“Rosie, do you have your phone? Headsets?”

  
“Yes, Daddy.”

  
“Sherlock, do you have your phone, keys, wallet, husband?” Sherlock nodded.

  
“Let’s go, gentleman.” Mycroft urged, turning to go. The three Watsons followed him. Sherlock dropped his house keys with Mrs. Hudson who forced 500 pounds on him. “For Rosie, love.”

  
Sherlock tucked it into his pocket and joined the others outside. The driver took the luggage from him. He crawled into the car and flopped down next to Mycroft.

  
It was a silent car ride to the airport. John should not have been surprised when the car drove onto the tarmac. They pulled up to the plane. Sherlock bounded out of the car and up the steps. John shook his head, and slowly followed. Rosie was at his heels. Mycroft brought up the rear, holding his brother’s backpack.

  
John stopped at the door of the jet when he saw the four seats. Three of them had a backpack on it. The fourth had Sherlock already in it. “John! You’re next to me.” There was a black backpack on the seat. It was monogrammed with John’s initials. Rosie’s bag was bright blue. It had a little rainbow on it. Mycroft’s bag was worn brown leather shoulder bag.

  
“Sherlock, what have you done?” He grinned widely.

  
“I got prizes for my family.” John hastened over to his seat and picked up the bag. It was heavy. John sat down and got buckled. Rosie followed. Mycroft handed Sherlock his gray bag. John managed to catch a small pirate ship on his.

  
“Thanks, Papa!” Rosie grinned at him digging through her bag. John glanced at his husband who nodded his approval. John opened his backpack and dug through it. He pulled out flip flips, a hat, sunglasses, headsets, ear plugs, and a stack of paperback novels.

  
“It’s airplane entertainment stuff.” Sherlock grinned, and reached his hand out to hold John’s.

  
“Thanks, love.” John shoved the stuff back in his bag. He reached out and took Sherlock’s hand.

  
“You see, uncle? This is why I have to be in your room. They are so disgustingly in love.”

  
“That is disgusting. I concur.”

  
“Myc, did you bring your Epi-Pen?” Sherlock asked with a grin.

  
“Yes. Sherl.” He grimaced at him, acidly.

  
“Bees.” He mouthed at John. “Rosie, your spare inhaler is in your bag.”

  
“Papa!” She groaned. “I only needed the inhaler once in the last five years.”

  
“She doesn’t have asthma, love.”

  
“She has allergies and sometimes gets shortness of breath with exertion.”

  
“Sherlock, dear, let it go. She’s got the inhaler and she’s trained to use it.”

  
“John are you going to sleep?” Sherlock pulled his hand away from John and plucked his earbuds out of his bag. John pulled his own out and nodded. He pressed the button to bring the stewardess over. John requested a blanket and Rosie chimed in that she needed one too. She disappeared and came back with two blankets. Rosie took hers and snuggled down under it. She found a book and settled in. Sherlock looked at his brother, with a very pointed look. “Not one word, Myc, about the changes.”

  
“What changes? The schedule? I am a fairly flexible person.”

  
“The changes to me. You’ll see them when we land.” Sherlock placed his earbuds in and promptly ignored him.

  
Mycroft pulled his phone out and texted him.

  
What changes? MH

  
_You’ll see. Just prepare yourself. SW_

 

Then he saw his brother throw his phone aside refused to answer him.

 

 

The 10 hour flight was a subdued one. John fell asleep quickly and slept most of the flight. Rosie read most of the one novel until she threw it aside finally declaring it “dull”. She grabbed another book and spent some more time reading it. She also texted Greg, Molly, and some of her football friends. A few times she texted her Papa “BORED!” with a picture of a goofy face. He responded by sending her a picture of Daddy sleeping and slightly drooling. He also solved three cold cases and texted Greg. Mycroft spent the 10 hour flight cramming all the work he could get down into it. He had promised Rosie that he wouldn’t work when he was in America.

  
When the plane did touch down, Sherlock had a hard time waking John up. He was all curled up in a ball with his blanket and a book. He looked like a cute little kitten. Rosie finally interceded by jumping on her Dad. “Dadddddddy!” she squealed sounding like baby Rosie. “Time to wake up.”

  
John shot her a miserable look, but rolled over. He stretched out. “Lock!” he complained. He never called his husband “Lock” as Sherlock himself preferred his full name. Hearing John say it now made Sherlock grin, instead of feeling annoyed.

  
“Yes, my love?”

  
“You made me fall asleep. Then you let that wild beastie Rosie jump on me.” John was whining good and proper now. “I was cozy. Bad Lock.”

  
Sherlock grinned, slipping his back pack on his back. “Yes, John darling.”

  
John continued to mumble to himself as he shoved everything back in his bag. He slid the sunglasses on. He wrapped himself up in the blanket and dragged his back pack over to Sherlock. John slammed his body into Sherlock’s. “Carry my bag, you hateful man.”

  
Rosie had already skipped off the plane with Uncle Myc. She was getting inpatient. Where were her fathers? She marched back on the plane just in time to see her burrito Dad slam into her Papa. He dropped the bag and kept walking. “Come on Papa!” she bossed, turning away again. He laughed and picked up his husband’s bag. He walked off the plane and into the waiting car.

  
John was curled up in the middle seat. Sherlock crawled into the seat with John and held his feet. Mycroft and Rosie were sitting in the back.

  
“Are you aware you just stole a blanket?” Mycroft was asking.

  
“No talking, Myc. I’m throwing a Sherlockian fit. I’d go to my mind palace but even I can’t fake that.”

  
Sherlock chuckled, and slipped John’s shoes off. He rubbed his feet in a very John-way. John made tiny contended noises as Sherlock rubbed his fit away. Sherlock pulled each sock off. “Just to rub you better” he justified, as he did it. He tucked each dirty sock into the shoes. Once John sighed in contentment, he slipped flip flops on his husband’s feet.

  
“Not so bad, husband.” John murmured. Sherlock laughed to himself. He was excited to get to the hotel.

  
“Rosie, look for the purple signs! That means we’re on property.”

  
“Papa.” She said, leaning over the seat to put her face next to his. “Uncle Myc has already said this is the worst vacation ever.”

  
“Your Uncle Myc should can it. Your Dad is throwing a Sherlockian fit. I can only handle one toddler at the mo’.”

  
Rosie giggled and leaned back with a whisper to Mycroft. “You owe me five quid.”

  
“No, the bet was he had to call me a pompous ass-”

 

“Can it, you pompous ass.” Sherlock laughed.

  
“Give your niece the five quid. We all know you’re only going to buy a new umbrella with it.” John grumbled.

  
“I’ll beat you with an umbrella.” Mycroft threatened.

  
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” John countered, sitting up. He unwrapped himself from the blanket and pushed it on to Sherlock’s lap.

  
“Dad, you’re grumpy.”

 

“I hate flying.”

  
“That’s because you’re usually flying into or out of… An explosive situation.” Mycroft said. “This is meant to be fun.”

  
“Your brother talks too much.” John complained to Sherlock.

  
“He’s your brother.” Sherlock countered. “He was only mine until I turned 18.”

  
“Shut up.” John said, looking at his toes. “You stole my shoes.”

  
“They offended me.” Sherlock admitted with a grin.

  
“Sherlock, Rosie wants to know how much longer.”

  
“47 years.” John answered, snuggling into his husband. “Now, Myc, entertain your designated Watson while Sherlock entertains his designated Watson.” John took his husband’s hand. “Entertain me, husband mine.”

  
“When we get there, we’re going to go swimming and order room service.”

  
“And then, we sleep in the zoo?” John mumbled.

  
Sherlock laughed at his husband. “There’s no zoo to sleep in. I already told you that we have a room like a human.”

  
“Boo! Down with humans.” John mumbled again.

 

“Oh, you’re fine.” Sherlock said, kissing his head. “What do you think Mycroft will say about the art?”

  
John grinned and kissed Sherlock’s hand. “Linda Blair.” Even Sherlock got that reference.

  
“Horror flick with vomiting pea soup?” Sherlock asked. John nodded.

  
“Rosie?” John asked. Sherlock nodded.

  
“Papa!” Rosie grinned. “We’re here!”

  
They were indeed pulling up to the lodge. Once the car stopped, Rosie hopped out of the car. Mycroft handed out her backpack and she slung it over her shoulders. John got out the car and placed his on his shoulders. Sherlock followed suit. Rosie shifted from foot to foot in anticipation as she waited for her Dads to stop looking around outside the building. The three Watsons walked into the building.

  
Mycroft dealt with the luggage. Sherlock went to check in and speak to the people at the front desk. John and Rosie clasped hands together and went into the lobby to explore. It was massive. It was done up in browns, reds, and oranges. John squeezed his daughter’s hand reminding her that he loved her and he was just as overwhelmed as her. They went to the large window overlooking the Savannah to watch the wildlife.

  
Sherlock and Mycroft approached them about twenty minutes later. Mycroft was shaking his head. “That was a nebulous cluster.”

  
“It was fine, Myc. Don’t be so dour.”

  
“Switching ro-”

  
“Enough. You got our daughter and we’re not next to each other any longer.”

  
“What happened?” John asked, reaching out to his husband with his other hand to hold it. He squeezed his husband’s hand twice to convey to him that he was loved and safe.

  
“They had to cancel the reservation, and rebook it to get Rosie in his room. It took about three minutes and his MAJESTY was an absolute arse.”

  
“It took fifteen minutes.”

  
“You’re on vacation. You’re fine. Just relax.” Sherlock said, gently patting his brother’s shoulder. Sherlock was trying to be kind.

  
“Can we go to our rooms?” Rosie asked. “I want to swim.” She grabbed Mycroft’s hand and let go of her Dad’s hand. Mycroft led the way to their room. Sherlock pulled John to the front desk again, and asked to speak to a manager.

  
“Jambo! Welcome to the Animal Kingdom Lodge. How can I help you?”

  
“Hi. My name is Sherlock Watson and I wanted to apologize for my brother, Mycroft Holmes. He’s an arse and works for the government. He has a personal assistant, ridiculously loyal to him, that handles all this. How can I make Susan’s day better?”

  
“Oh! Typically we encourage cast compliments via Twitter. Just hashtag it with #castcompliment.”

  
“I would prefer that.” Sherlock said. “But my Twitter handle is verified-”

  
“You always mention that No one cares.” John said, sounding bored.

  
“Yes, sir. Let me just get this card.” She slid him a cast compliment form. He filled it out and handed it back. “Thank you!”

  
Sherlock and John walked away from the counter to their room up on the fifth floor. They walked down the hall to their room. Sherlock grinned at John, and held his magic band out to the door. He heard it unlock and nudged it with his toes. They entered the room, and looked around. They dumped their backpacks and John removed his flip flops. “John! You can have your own bed.” Sherlock grinned at him, stripping out of his travel suit. John walked over to the large window and looked out.

  
“So, it’s not a zoo, but I like it. You made a great choice, baby.” John said, turning back to him. He started chewing his lip. “God, those leg sleeves are the sexiest tattoos ever. I’ve already enjoyed your legs, but god damn baby!” John looked his husband up and down.

  
About seven months ago, Sherlock had got a full leg sleeve on his left leg. It was a piece of music he composed entitled “John’s Story”. There were bees, violins, the medical symbol, atoms, microscopes, magnifying glass, umbrellas interspersed throughout the sheet music. About two months ago, he got his second leg sleeve on his right leg. This one was tattooed with honeycombs, the Watson family crest, “I love you, Papa” written by a toddler sized Rosie, and the most important words the two Watsons men have uttered: “Dinner?” “Starving.” At first, Sherlock got the tattoo because he wanted to get one for John, but very quickly found out that one of his favorite bits of getting a tattoo was the pleasure-pain response of the actual needle. It helped him to think and it kept that old craving for cocaine away. Sherlock was even more blown away when John invited him to come to the tattoo parlor with him. That day, John got a violin, football, and the medical symbol tattooed on his left calf.

  
Sherlock grinned. “I’m glad you like them. Molly thinks I’m going through a mid-life crisis.”

  
“I love them. Are you wearing shorts the whole trip?”

  
“Yes, sir. The whole time.” Sherlock beamed a real smile at him.

  
“God damn. I’m one lucky man.” John grinned at him. “I’m going to need to screw you at least twice daily. Doctor’s orders my love.” John walked over to him and snuggled in. Sherlock kissed his head.

  
“John, I can’t lie to you. Watching you get tattooed is my most favorite recent sexual memory of you. It was very erotic. I could feel the needle like it was on myself. I wanted to jump up on the table and do you.”

  
John hid his face and grinned. “Whore.”

  
“Yours.” John pulled away from Sherlock and went to the suitcase. “How much time do you think we have?”

  
“Not enough.” John dismissed him then dug for their swimsuits. He pulled them out and threw Sherlock his.

  
“Wait until Mycroft sees we both have tattoos. He will flip out!” Sherlock laughed, getting into his swim trunks. They were red with macaws on them. While John’s were aqua with pink flamingos. John loved ridiculous swim trunks, so Sherlock indulged him. John pulled out two swim shirts. He threw Sherlock’s to him and pulled his over his head. He adjusted his magic band, and placed his hands on his hips.

  
“How sexy am I?”

  
“Oooo. Dr. Watson, it’s so sexy when you protect yourself against skin cancer.” Sherlock tossed him his large floppy hat. John laughed and pull it on. Sherlock pulled his shirt on, then his hat. He grabbed his phone to send a group message to John, Rosie, and Mycroft.

  
_Daddy and Papa are heading to the pool xo SW_   
_Already here, Papa xo RW_

  
She included a photo of where they were. Sherlock showed John, then snorted. He threw the phone down and left the room hand in hand with his husband. They wandered down to the pool. They spotted Mycroft, leaning on a black umbrella, before he saw them. He had a sun protective outfit on. He looked beyond ridiculous. Sherlock grinned at his husband who laughed heartily. They walked over to their daughter and Mycroft. He looked the husbands over, mostly to check for injuries. It was a reflex really. Almost meaningless anymore, because those two men that Mycroft held dear mostly avoided a high level of danger. Mycroft’s eyes went over Sherlock’s leg sleeves twice before he saw them. Rosie sensed the danger and kissed her parents before getting in the pool.

  
“William Sherlock Scott Watson. Please tell me you’re wearing skin protective pants.”

  
“I’m not, Myc. They are tattoos on my skin.”

  
“Why on this green Earth would you do that?”

  
Sherlock smirked, then looked around to see where his daughter was. She was in the pool already. He stood very close to his brother and said, “Because I’m a pain slut and we’ve never had better sex than we do when we’re in pain.”

  
Mycroft pushed him away, trying not to gag. “Sick bastard.” The doctor and the detective burst out laughing uncontrollably. Mycroft eye looked over Sherlock again and managed to catch a tattoo on John’s leg. “Both of you go away now.”

  
John slipped his flip flops off, but hung back. He watched his gorgeous husband walk around the pool and dive into the deep end. He was perfect in this arena as he was in many others. “Myc, in case you didn’t notice, Sherlock included umbrellas in his family tattoo. Maybe next time don’t be such an arse.”

  
“Umbrellas?” Mycroft was dumbfounded. His brother tattooed an umbrella on his leg in honor of him.

  
“Yes.” John looked at him. “He included symbols of you, Rosie, myself, and him. Let the past go, Myc. Sherlock loves you whether you want him to or not.” Mycroft shifted his weight to to his other foot, uncomfortable. “You did not kill that amazing heart. You tried to ruin a beautiful human and make him a cold robot like you. That’s your mistake. I suggest you start liking the brother you have instead of the clone you tried to create. John paused a moment to let his words sink in. “But that’s just your brother’s husband talking. What does that arsehole know?”

  
Mycroft looked at John, blandly, very clearly plotting his death. “Thank you, Dr. Watson. I shall consider your words.”

  
Sherlock looked for his brother, seeing him, and calling out to him. “Myc! Come swim with us!”

  
John elbowed him, and grinned at him. “Told you Myc.”

 

“John, you too!” He called.

  
Mycroft grinned at his brother’s words, then said softly, almost like he was convincing himself. “He has my violin tattooed on his left knee.”

  
“I guess that’s why he has three violins, instead of just two.” John said, before walking over to his family. Mycroft followed quietly.  
“Dad! You’re finally taller than me!” Rosie giggled.

  
“Hush it midget.” John giggled. Mycroft lowered himself carefully into the pool, while John jumped in. He tucked his knees up and made himself into a ball. The resulting splash hit his family in the face.

  
“Arse!” Mycroft shouted.  
  
“Inappropriate!” Sherlock shouted, gleefully. Rosie jumped up on Mycroft’s back. They both tumbled under the water, laughing. John swam over to Sherlock and pulled him under. Sherlock didn’t try to fight back instantly. He waited until John popped up for air and dragged him under.

  
“Arse!” John tried to shout, but sadly, they were under water. Both Sherlock and John popped up laughing. When their laughter died down, they looked for Mycroft and Rosie. They were in the deeper end, racing each other. “He’s such a different man when he’s with Rosie. I wish he could have been that guy for you growing up.”

  
Sherlock shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been receptive on any level. He tried to be Daddy and that wasn’t his job.”

  
“He looks so much younger with his designated Watson.” John observed. “I’m glad you convince him to come.”

  
“I did no such thing.” Sherlock tried to look stern, but the kindness in his eyes betrayed him.

  
“Good, ‘Lock.” John kissed him before he dragged him under the water.

 

That evening they passed the hours by playing in the pool, lounging at the table, and eating pizza. Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw a movie on the screen. It was 101 Dalmatians. He nudged his brother. “Myc, your favorite movie is on.”

  
“Shall we go watch it, brother mine?”

  
“ME TOO!” Rosie shouted.

  
They gathered all their things and moved closer to the movie. John cleaned up the pizza mess and followed quietly. The two Holmes brothers sat with the small blonde Watson girl sandwiched between them. All three of them were sucked into the movie. John kissed Rosie’s head. She held up her phone for John to take pictures. He took several photos, but no one moved. He placed the phone on Rosie’s lap. He then kissed Mycroft, Rosie, and Sherlock’s heads. John went to his room alone.

  
Although he slept most of the day, he was exhausted. John grinned to himself. He grabbed his phone and disappeared into the bathroom. He knew his husband had left his phone on the bed, but he’d get it eventually. John stripped down and drew himself a bath. He relaxed in the warm water. He took a couple racy photos and sent them to Sherlock. He added, “Bored xoxo JW” ala Sherlock himself. Hopefully, Sherlock would get the message that he wanted to play tonight.

  
The movie ended and the Watson-Holmes clan made their way back their rooms. Before they parted, Sherlock said, “Calm day tomorrow. Room service for breakfast, if you are so interested. Lunch reservation at the Edison in Disney Springs tomorrow at noon. We’ll explore Disney Springs until about five, then we’ve got to go to Wilderness Lodge for dinner reservation at seven.”  
  
“What time is the car picking us up?”

  
“Rosie, can you handle this one?” Sherlock asked, with a laugh.

  
“Got it, Papa.” She kissed his cheek. “Give one to Dad, yeah?”

  
“Goodnight daughter mine. Goodnight, brother mine.” Sherlock said, before walking away.

  
“So, Rosie, the car?”  
  
“Well, Uncle Myc, we’re riding on a bus.”

  
“A what?” Sherlock heard him ask, as they disappeared.

  
He laughed to himself. Sherlock got off the elevator, and headed to his room. If he was being honest, he loved having this time with Mycroft, the human, instead of Mr. Holmes, the Iceman. Sherlock was grinning when he pressed his magic band to the keylock. It clicked open and he let himself in. He looked to see his husband. John was passed out, with a damp towel opened around his waist. Sherlock’s sharp eyes caught the dried ejaculate on John’s right hand. He smirked at the sight. He took his time, putting things away. He took a shower and put his dirty suit on again. He went to the suitcase and grabbed the lube. He stashed it in his pocket. He walked over to John, and crouched down so his mouth was close to John’s ear. He put on a panicked voice.

  
“Watson, get up. You’re late for roll call.” Sherlock stood up smoothly. He tucked his hands in his pockets to watch his lover cooly. Something somewhere in John called him to action. He rubbed his eyes and jumped out of bed, and looked around for pants.

  
“On your knees, Watson.” Sherlock ordered, with a grin, firmly. John fell on his knees, without a second thought. “Did you think your Sherlockian fit was cute today?”

  
John stared straight ahead. He was a soldier underneath the old man facade. He was panting a bit, trying to figure out the game. He wasn’t going to do anything without express permission. It had been a long time since Sherlock wanted to be in charge, so John was going to enjoy it. Especially since Sherlock was doing all the thinking for him.

  
“Not speaking, are you?” Sherlock asked, pacing around him. “To the middle of the room. Do not walk.” John made it to the middle of the large bedroom quickly, and sat on his knees with his ankles under his arse. His hands were placed on his knees. His eyes were straight ahead. Sherlock paced around him, admiring the view. Sherlock improvised and swung John’s come stained towel around in his hand. “Watson, do you know why you’re on your knees like a slut?” Sherlock waited for an answer. “Speak, old man.”

  
“I threw a fit today, sir.”

  
“Then?”

  
John didn’t answer right away. He felt the zing! of the towel connecting with his back. He didn’t flinch. “Sir.” John answered. “I don’t know the rest of the answer.”  
“Think, Watson.” Sherlock said, slinging the towel at him. Sometimes he just cracked it hear his ear, other times it connected. While Sherlock really was a pain slut, John was not. He enjoyed some pain, but mostly pleasure. Sherlock knew this.

  
“Sir.” John said, quietly. “Was it the photos?”

  
“The photos!” Sherlock cried. “And then?”

  
John’s lips turned down, as he thought, looking up at him. “I didn’t wait up for you, sir.”

  
Sherlock grabbed his hair and forced his head down. “You came before me. Has that ever been allowed?”

  
“No, no. Sir.” John said.

  
Sherlock looked at John, and shook his head. “I am so disappointed in you.” Sherlock said, firmly. Sherlock had this tone of voice he could use that was firm yet low in volume. He often used it during these games. “In punishment, I am going to enjoy that pert arse of yours and?” he asked John. Sherlock’s eyes were wide in desire, and John noticed the bulge in his pants out of the corner of his eyes.

  
“I have earned no relief, sir.” John said, dully. Already, his knees were unhappy with him, but he refused to complain. “Please, sir, may I see you?”

  
Sherlock laughed, heartlessly. “You already know the answer to that. Sluts who don’t behave don’t get treats. Seeing me naked is a treat. So no. On your elbows, old man, arse up.” Sherlock made a disapproving noise as he bent over. Sherlock unzipped his fly, and pulled his penis out. It was already hard. “Watson, how long has it been since you’ve bottom?”

  
John swallowed hard. “17 months, sir.”

  
“Not quite the record.” Sherlock mused quietly, as he slicked up his own hand. “Put that arse higher.” He commanded. John complied, quickly. Sherlock grabbed John’s hair and pulled his head back to make eye contact. “I’m looking for a quick fuck. Nothing fancy. I’m not going to prepare you. Green? Yellow? Or Red?”

  
“Green, sir.” John answered breathlessly. Sherlock pushed his head down again and used his tacky hand to slick his penis. Sherlock pulled John’s arse cheeks apart, and slowly pushed his way in.

  
“Not one word, slut.” Sherlock groaned. “I don’t care about your pain.”

  
Sherlock pushed in further. John hummed a bit in discomfort, but refused to tap out. Sherlock pulled out, and plunged in deeper this time. John felt Sherlock’s fingers grasp his hips hard, knowing that tomorrow there’d be marks. “Oh god, John. Your arse.” Sherlock pushed farther in yet, and John had to bite his lip. It was burning, but he had felt this before. “You’re doing so well, love. So-so.” Sherlock pulled almost completely out, and slammed back into him. “Fuck John.” He buried himself all the way, and slowly he fucked John’s arse. Sherlock enjoyed himself, varying the speeds until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “John…. John.. You are…. amazing.” He slammed aggressively into John until he was ready to come. He pulled all the way out, and came on John’s back with a litany of curses. John slumped forward. Sherlock saw stars, and felt like he was flying.John continued to pant, while he waited for Sherlock to come down. Sherlock wiped himself clean and tucked himself back in his pants. He stood up, while John tried to recover enough to stand up. He hurried to the bathroom, and wet a towel to clean John off. He scurried back to his husband and wiped his back off.

  
“Thank you, Sherlock.” John said, as Sherlock helped him stand up. Sherlock grinned at him happily, and fell to his knees.

  
“Mr. Watson, my love. You were brilliant, amazing. Sexy. Incredible. I don’t think you’re an old man at all.” He said, before he commenced on giving John the best blowjob of his life. When John came, he fell back on the other bed. Sherlock wiped his mouth, then quickly derobed. He laid down on the bed, behind John. He pulled his husband close to him, and held him. “Thank you so much, John.” Sherlock said, feeling very affectionate.

  
“Anything for you my love.” John murmured.

  
“You were astonishing.” Sherlock whispered, kissing John’s neck. “I love you, John Hamish.”

  
“I love you, Mr. Watson.”

  
“Thank you.” Sherlock said again, close to John’s ear. “Your transport is amazing.”

  
John giggled. “My body. I don’t have a transport.”

  
Sherlock smiled against John’s neck. “Yes you do. Everyone does. Some people are just a transport. Others have a brain attached.”

  
“Play your violin, ‘Lock.” John replied sleepily. Sherlock rolled away from him to turn on pre-recorded violin music for John. He turned back to him. “Thank you.” John relaxed against his husband and fell asleep again.

  
“Rosie was right. You will sleep your life away, Mr. Watson.”


	3. 2/14

When Sherlock finally woke at a scandalous 08:43, he saw a covered tray in the room. He sniffed, and murmured a pleased “Toast!” He wrapped a sheet around himself and went over to the tray. He pulled the lid off and saw toast with jam ready for him.He grabbed the plate to take it over to the window. He placed the plate on the bed and stared out the window. There were two adult giraffes wandering the area. They were gorgeous, graceful beasts. They stuck together. The shorter of the pair kept his keen eye on the taller, and followed the other slowly.

  
“That’s John.” He decided, nibbling on his toast. He was lost in the view.

  
John quietly slipped in the room and caught sight of his husband wrapped in a sheet enrapt in the giraffes. He heard quiet mumbling and chewing. John grinned, as he silently snapped a photo of his husband. Sherlock heard the soft click of the camera. He grinned brilliantly at his John. “Hi, love. I see you found the toast.”

  
“John! Come look! It’s us! I’m in front leading the way and you’re behind me checking out my butt!” John wrapped his arms around his husband and squeezed the aforementioned butt appreciatively. He snuggled his face into Sherlock’s arm.

  
“It is us, love.”

  
“Are you back to being John?”

  
John bit his arm before responding. “Yes, I think so. Being Sherlock for so long is tiring.”

  
“Being John isn’t a picnic. He’s so clever and caring.”

  
“Whoever fucked me last night was not caring.” John bit Sherlock teasingly. Sherlock leaned his head down and laid it on John’s. His eyes never left the animals.

  
“Did I hurt you?”

  
“It was what I needed, husband mine. I had a little pain. A two on the pain scale, but I’m beyond satisfied with how last night went. I needed you to fuck me. I needed you to remember I’m yours.”

  
Sherlock didn’t reply right away. He just replayed the words again. He branded them into his mind palace. “So it was good?” he finally asked deciding all evidence pointed to it being good.

  
“Yes, it was good. You were good. I especially like how you praised me afterward. That was very John of you.”

  
Sherlock nodded, which John felt rather than saw. “Slow day today. Edison at noon. Hoop de doo review at seven.”

  
“What do you want to do now?”

  
“Explore, John.”

  
“Ok, my love. Where to first?”

 

A text message interrupted them. It was from Rosie.

  
_Dad, Papa. Can I go swimming? Xo RW_  
_Of course, love. Papa says just be at the Edison for 11:30 xo JW_

  
“I want to go to Disney Springs. We can walk and shop and eat.” Sherlock finally answering John’s questions.

  
“Did you say eat? Do you intend to eat?”

  
“Yes John.” Sherlock replied, making a “bored” tone.

  
John couldn’t believe his ears. “Sweets or real food?”

  
“Sweets, John.” Sherlock replied with a grin. His tone said “obviously.”

  
“Well, get your sweet arse in gear!” John slapped his butt again, encouraging him. He texted the group while Sherlock got ready to go.

  
_Papa and I are going to Disney Springs. Myc, are you at the pool with RW? Don’t forget sunscreen. JW_  
_RW is actually swimming and has her sunclothing on. I am a responsible human, JW. MH_  
_Hardly human. SW_  
_See you for lunch. JW_

  
He turned his attention back to Sherlock. He was dressed in a black v-neck t-shirt and black dockers. He had a pair of pristine trainers on; his bumblebee shoes he called them as they were black and yellow. John cleared his throat. “Jesus.” He said, licking his lips. “What kind of fucking God are you?”

  
“I’m Sherlock Watson, human.” John shook his head. “Jesus, fuck, ‘Lock. The longer we’re married the sexier you become.” John appreciated what age had done to his husband. The few silver hairs, the softening of his eyes. His body had gained muscle mass over the years. Now with the tattoos, he was sexier than ever.

  
“Hush, you.” Sherlock blushed. He tucked his sunglasses into his V neck. He rummaged in his backpack for sunscreen. He held it out to John, asking him to apply it without saying it. He closed his eyes and stood very still as John rubbed it in for him. Sherlock set a timer on his phone to reapply in 110 minutes while John applied his own sunscreen. Sherlock glanced over his husband, and grinned.

  
John loved to complain about his looks, because “I’m so flabby, gray, and wrinkly.” Sherlock, however, loved John’s little belly (which was only noticeable when he was naked. Maybe that was why Sherlock loved it. He filed that thought away.) and the gray in his blonde hair was only noticeable to him. The wrinkles though. Sherlock loved them, as they were visible reminders to do better every day because John Hamish Watson was trying his best everyday. As Sherlock packed John’s clothes, they were tighter than John preferred but he looked delicious. He had on a blue polo and khaki docker shorts. He had blue trainers on. John could feel his husband study him.

 

“Stop, lover. Let’s go.” he held his hand out to Sherlock. “Do you need anything?”

  
Sherlock shook his head. “Money, key, ID” he held up his Magic Band. “Sunscreen, earbuds, anti-anxiety medication.” He patted his pockets.

  
“Phone?”

  
“You got yours.” Sherlock said, handing John his sunglasses. He took them and took his husband’s hand.

  
They left the room and meandered down to the bus stop. They sat on the benches and waited patiently. Sherlock gripped John’s hand tightly. “Distract me, love.” He whispered. John reached down idly and drew his hands along Sherlock’s leg.

  
“Focus on me, husband.” John breathed back. They sat like that until the bus came. Sherlock stood up and climbed on the bus. “Good morning.” he murmured to the driver, then choose a seat. He stared out the window.

  
John snuggled in next to him. “You’re doing so well.” He said in his ear.

  
“57 year old divorced retired navy man.” He muttered, almost to himself. “Hates swimming. Thinks you’re cute.” He muttered, closing his eyes. “But you’re mine. John Hamish Watson is all mine. Every bit of him.”

 

John kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “Do you want to try the medication?”

  
“Yes.” Sherlock said after a moment. He dug a tablet out of his pocket and swallowed it quickly. “Buspar 10mg.” He was reciting. “Non-narcotic, non-addictive. Instant. May induce drowsiness.” He paused, then looked at John. “Can we get coffee?”

  
“Yes, my brave lover. I’m so proud of you for fighting for your sanity.” John was tapping morse code on Sherlock’s knee. Just stupid things like “bear butt” and “wet noodle.” The rest of the ride to Disney Springs was a silent one. Sherlock was feeling better, but still enjoying the little puzzles John was feeding him.

  
“Thank you, husband mine.” Sherlock said as they wandered off the bus.

 

They walked off the bus and followed the crowd. They meandered through the plaza. Sherlock was not kidding when he said he was going to eat. They stopped for a coffee. Then they shared (dear reader, please understand Sherlock hogged) a caramel apple. After that, they shared a churro and some chocolate brownie thing which John hated. It was a lovely way to idly pass the morning. They made their way to the Edison for 11:50. John ignored the texts from Mycroft. They walked over to the podium. Rosie slid up to them and took her Papa’s hand. Mycroft came over with a very sour face.

  
“Hi Dads. Uncle Myc survived the bus.”

  
“You’re late.” Mycroft announced, as if Sherlock had no clue.

  
“On purpose.” Sherlock said. “Hi.” He smiled at the cast member. “Lunch reservation for noon booked under Watson.”

  
“Is the entire party here?” Sherlock nodded. “Follow me.” She grabbed four menus and took them to their seat. She placed the menus down and disappeared. Rosie pulled out a seat for Mycroft before he could pull one out for her. Sherlock pulled John’s out, and kissed his head before he sat down.

  
“Slumming it, I see.” Mycroft said to Sherlock.

  
“You mean my appearance?” Sherlock inquired.

  
“You look like a thug. Thank whoever that Mummy’s dead. If she saw her precious Billy-”

  
“Billy?” Rosie asked.

  
“Mummy used to call Sherlock “Billy” when he was a baby because his full name is William Sherlock Scott.” Mycroft said, imperiously. “It wasn’t until his seventh year of life that he decided his name was Sherlock.”

  
“I thought “Rosamund Mary” was bad.”

  
“I wanted Kate.” John chimed in, looking over the menu.

  
“I was ten.” Sherlock said, scanning the menu even though he already knew what he was ordering. “I prefer Sherlock, Rosie. Just like one day you may prefer Rose or Rosamund.”

  
“Or you’ll meet a beautiful stranger one day and they’ll call you Rosie and it will feel like home.” John was grinning thinking about the first time he heard Sherlock call him “John” in that soft whining way that made it sound like Jawn.

  
Rosie looked at her Dad. She wanted to say, “Did it feel like home when Mama called your name?” but she glanced at her Papa who told her it was not wise to ask that with a wrinkle of his nose. “Maybe I’ll be like Uncle Myc and marry my work.”

  
“Your Uncle Myc is not as attached to his work as everyone thinks he is.” Sherlock grinned, teasing. He placed the menu aside.

  
“What was that look about, daughter mine?” John asked, sternly looking over his menu at her.

  
“I was going to-” She swallowed hard, then asked. “Did it feel like home when Mum called your name?” John lowered his menu, and looked at her.

  
“We don’t have to talk about that.” Mycroft said, sensing that John was a tad uncomfortable. He shot a very pointed look at Sherlock.

  
“Yes,” Sherlock agreed. “You know that your daddy loved your mum very much. She was his sun and moon-”

  
“I’m quite capable of answering questions about my deceased wife, I’ll thank you two very much.” John said, suddenly. “Rosamund Mary Watson, when your Mum called my home it felt like an echo of home. I thought it was home for a very long time, until your Papa came home from Serbia.”

  
“Why was he in Serbia?”

  
“Is now really the time for this? She’s ten years old.”

  
“I’m all but thirteen, Uncle Myc.” Rosie corrected.

  
“She’s asking. I’m telling, unless my husband would prefer to answer that question?”

  
Sherlock shook his head “no”. “Can we place our order? I’m hungry.” Sherlock asked, seeing the waiter come over. He was an older man, with completely gray hair. Sherlock looked at him for a second before he realized that no deductions were flying at him.

  
“Welcome to the Edison!” he greeted them with a grin. “Will today’s lunch be on the dining plan?”

  
“No.” Sherlock smiled kindly at him, even though his eyes were roving over Mycroft.

 

“Excellent, sir. So shall we start with drinks or do you know what you want?”

  
Everyone looked around at each other, and kind of nodded. “I’ll start.” Sherlock grinned. “May I have a lemon aid, an order of chips-”

  
“French fries?” He grinned. “It was hard for my husband too.” The word “Ex” came at Sherlock sluggishly.

 

“Yes.” Sherlock grinned, feeling John’s hand on his thigh. He didn’t know if it was more for him or John that there was skin to skin contact right now. “And The Lollipop Tree.”

  
“For your meal?”

  
“Yes, please.”

  
“Papa! May I order dessert too?”

  
“Of course, girlie. This is our vacation.” Sherlock smiled at her.

  
“May I have the Edison?” John inquired. “Water to drink please.”

  
“I’d like the Really Big Black Cherry Cream Shake and a water.” Rosie smiled up at the waiter, who grinned and nodded as he thought of his own grandsons.

  
“May I have a glass of water and The Greek salad with shrimp? No dressing.” Mycroft inquired politely. “Thank you.”

  
“I’ll go put this order in and be back around with your drinks.” He looked over Mycroft again, before walking away.

  
John looked at his daughter, and saw her curious expression. “Your Papa was in Serbia for two years to break up a very large drug operation and to protect me. He left under the pretense of a lie. You see, I thought he was dead.”

  
“Papa! You let Daddy think you were dead for two year?”

  
“She got it.” John said, pointedly. “Your Uncle Myc assisted in that deception. By the time he came back, I had fallen in love with Mary Morstan, your mama. It wasn’t until the sixteenth time she said my name that it started to feel like an echo of home. It probably wasn’t even an echo, but on our first date I spoke about Sherlock that great big git for hours. Mary never teased me about loving him. She understood, later I found out just how much she understood-”

  
“Jay.” Sherlock muttered, reaching for his drink.

  
“But she accepted the weird love I had for Sherlock without a question. She loved me as much as she could.” John said. “She was a CIA trained spy. The only person I have ever met that lies better than Mycroft.”

  
“To be fair, that’s never been tested.” Mycroft tried to joke.

  
“You probably have this pie in the sky idea that your Mum was this Goddess amongst men.” He pinched Sherlock, because he knew that was where she got the idea from. “Your Mum was a killer, but so am I so she was perfect for me.”

  
“You were a soldier, Daddy.” Rosie said. John brushed that comment away.

  
“Mary snored and she would put ruffle my hair when she walked by me. She-” John said, struggling, to say something nice as Missy from Doctor Who had instructed. “Your mother was a straight up frigid bitch some days. She spent eleven days not talking to me because I left the toilet seat up and she fell in.”

 

Rosie burst out with a laugh. “Cold toilet water in your vagina sucks, my friend.” she announced just as the waiter was delivering their food. He tried not to giggle with the family, but failed. “Thank you so much!” She beamed at him as he placed the milkshake in front of her.

  
“Anything else I can get you? Spare napkins, perhaps?”

  
“No thank you.” John smiled, then added. “Wait.”

  
“Yes, sir?”

 

“Are you single?” John asked, with a smirk.

  
“Uh, yes sir. My husband recently left me.” The waiter admitted.

  
“Perfect. May I borrow your pen and paper?” John asked. The waiter gave it to John without a second thought. John wrote down Mycroft’s cell phone number and his name. “That man you can’t take your eyes off of is called Myc. He is gayer than he’ll ever admit. You should call him.”

  
“Dr. Watson!” Mycroft said, incredulous. “The nerve. I apologize, sir. You don’t have to call me.”

 

The waiter grinned at him. “Only time will tell.” He walked away, with a grin.

 

“Oh, Myc. Just hope he calls you.”

  
“You did tell me that sometimes you were too busy to hang out with your family because you were getting laid. So why should our first family vacation be any different?” Rosie grinned, stealing one of her Papa’s chips.

  
John grinned to himself as he tucked into his lunch. “Really great choice, Sherl.”

  
“I can’t believe you did that.” Mycroft said, shaking his head. He may be play-acting disbelief but he certainly wasn’t going to let that stop him from eating.

  
Rosie was enjoying her milkshake and thinking a bit about her mama. “I have a great life with you and Papa. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything by having two dads, you know. Molly and Mrs. H. They do their absolute best with me.”

  
Sherlock was enjoying his cheesecake pops and his chips. “I’m proud of you Rosie for being brave enough to ask Dad about Mary. I’m really proud of you, John Hamish, for talking about her.”

  
“After nearly thirteen years, don’t you think it’s about time I talk about her?” John asked.

  
“You know the family rule, Mr. Watson. If you need it, and you ask for it, it’s yours.” Sherlock reminded.

  
“Which is why I answered Rosie.” John added.

  
“Your mother.” Sherlock said, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Was a Goddess amongst mere mortals. Do you know that one time, she saved John from a Guy Fawkes day bonfire?”

  
“Mum did?”

  
“Yes.” Sherlock grinned at his daughter.

  
“She figured out the cipher to point your Papa in the correct direction.” John corrected. “She told me the story, ‘Lock. You can’t sugar coat the truth with me.”

  
“Did you know when I was little, Papa would tell me bedtime stories about the warrior-Princess named Mary? I’m pretty sure it was his way of talking about his friend, dealing with his grief, and telling me about her while thinking that I was just a stupid little kid that wouldn’t remember.”

  
John looked at his husband, in wonder. “I’m so sorry, my dear husband. I never realized how hard her death must have been on you.”

  
“You just lost your wife and had a baby to take care of. You saw my grief, but yours just drowned it out.” Sherlock explained, touching John’s thigh in comfort. “Do you want to try my milkshake?”

  
“That’s my milkshake!” Rosie said, cheerfully eating some chips.

  
“No, my love. I’m full.” John said.

  
“Thank you for talking about Mum.” Rosie said, suddenly. “I’m sure it must have been hard for you.”

  
“Anything for my daughter.” John grinned. “So, husband mine, what’s next? Where do we go now?”

  
“Well, we were meant to explore Disney Springs, but you and I covered it pretty well. So we can go through it with our kid or go swimming.”

  
“I want to go swimming!” Rosie grinned. “Uncle Myc, if you want to stick around to see your boyfriend I’ll go with Papa and Daddy.”

  
Mycroft scoffed, and wiped his mouth. “That’s a very kind offer, Rosie. Perhaps I will wander around here. I’ll meet you at the Fort Wilderness for 6.”

  
“That sounds appropriate.” Sherlock smiled. “I’ll go swim with you too, Rosie.”

  
“Me too!” John added. “Good luck with your boyfriend, Myc.”

  
“I’ll handle the bill, folks.” Mycroft said. “Charge it to the band, right Sherlock?”

  
“Yes, brother mine. Thank you so much.” The three Watsons trampled out of the restaurant. John held his daughter’s hand and Sherlock held her other hand.

 

“I hope Uncle Myc gets laid.” Rosie grinned. “He’s so stuffy. He needs to relax.”

  
“Rosie, really. You’re twelve.”

  
“I’m being raised by Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.” She pointed out. “I know things that I shouldn’t.” She shrugged. “Plus, Molly and I’ve had the sex talk more times than I care to admit.”

  
“Molly had it with you? Shouldn’t I be doing that?” John asked.

  
“She felt that she could talk about it with an authority you don’t have and truthfully, I was able to ask her my questions. I’m all cleared up on sex now.” Rosie said, as they walked back to the bus stop.

  
“So we don’t have to talk about it?” Sherlock asked.

  
“Well, if you have questions Papa, I’ll be happy to answer them.”

  
“I could kiss that Molly Hooper.” Sherlock said, enthusiastically.

  
“Why?” John asked, laughing as the bus pulled up.

  
“Because she probably told her everything and now we don’t have to!”

  
“Sherlock, we’re her dads. That’s our job to talk about all the tough stuff.”

  
“Rosie, love.” Sherlock said, turning to her. “Don’t do drugs, don’t have sex without protection, no means no, don’t talk to strangers, and don’t scream help, scream fire!”

  
“Very good talk, Papa.” Rosie said as she rolled her eyes.

 

 

At the hotel, they very got ready to go swimming and enjoyed the afternoon by the pool. The three Watsons enjoyed this leisure time they had together. For so much of Rosie’s life it was play with Papa while Dad works, or play with Dad while Papa works, so for Rosie, this vacation was already the best thing that has ever happened to her. John didn’t even disappear for a nap which he kept threatening to do.

  
After the swimming, they went back to their rooms and showered. Rosie joined her dads quickly as she realized that she really didn’t like being alone in such a strange land. She let herself in the room using her Dad’s magic band.

 

“Dads! There’s a girl here.” She was partially quoting Beauty and the Beast.

  
“Oh my god!” Sherlock called back in a bad french accent. John got a glint in his eye when he heard that terrible french accent. “Shut it, you.”

  
“It’s refreshing with a hint of the past.” John giggled, as he carefully shaved his face. Sherlock was brushing his teeth.

  
“Stop it. You’re not so cute.”

  
“Neither were you.”

  
“You forgave me.”

  
“After I kicked your arse three times.”

  
“ROSIE!” Sherlock called, sticking his head out. “Your Dad is an absolute arse.”

  
“So be one back, like you typically do.” Rosie said, with a grin. “Can I order an uber, Dads? Uncle Myc will get so jealous.”

  
“Yes, please.” John called back, coming out of the bathroom in his pants and shorts. “Your Papa is a terrible man. He’s threatening to-”

  
“Walk out of the bathroom NAKED if my dear husband doesn’t get me pants.” Sherlock cut in, reminding.

  
“Daddy!” Rosie gasped. “What’s going on with your back?” She walked up behind him to look at the red marks. When she poked one, John hissed. John grabbed his husband’s pants and walked into the bathroom. He looked at Sherlock with a questioning eyes. He nodded consent to educate their daughter. John went to the main room and to the dresser. He pulled out a shirt and socks too. John sat on the bed.

  
“My back has marks on it because sometimes I like to be hit when I have sex.” John said, carefully. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say or truthfully, how much of what he’d say was appropriate. “I’m an adult in a safe, consensual, and most importantly loving relationship. I choose to engage in rough sex and the marks are a result of that.”

  
“Why would you do that, Dad?” Rosie asked, sitting behind him. She wasn’t judging him, she was curious.

  
“Your dad is a danger slut.” Sherlock said, coming out of the bathroom. ”He loves the adrenaline rush and sometimes he craves it when there’s no danger. So we’ve found a way to produce it without true danger. When Dad says stop, I do.” Sherlock pulled an outfit out of the drawers and started getting dressed.

  
“Is this a leftover thing from the army?”

  
“Maybe.” John shrugged pulling his shirt on. “I never explored it with anyone but your Papa. Not everyone I’ve had sex with enjoys that type of sex.”

  
Rosie nodded, to show understanding. “I can see the appeal for two adrenaline junkies like my dads. If I were anyone else, you’d never tell me about this. Is it because I can play Sherlock’s deductions game?”

  
Sherlock nodded, then added. “You’re a child. You’re curious. We talk about everything.”

  
“I remember the life cycle of the average household gnat phase. Experimenting in my kitchen.” John said disapprovingly. “I’m not a crazy man. I do want you to know your Dad and I as adults, but you’re twelve. I don’t know how to slowly introduce that side of me to you without you freaking out, or it being weird.”

  
“I know you and Papa have sex. I performed an experiment about hearing things outside of your bedroom. I set up a camera and shut the door with me inside and made a lot of noise. I put the camera in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the stairs, and my room. No noise could be heard. I asked Mrs. Hudson about it, and she said something about “Oh, that’s why I don’t hear them screw anymore.” When I couldn’t figure out what screws had to do with it, I consulted Urban Dictionary and figured it out.”

  
John looked at Sherlock. “She did an experiment.”

  
“Oh, I knew that! She wrote it up for her science final. If I remember, you were in there reading one day when I was on the phone and you couldn’t hear me pace or talk.”

  
“Yes!” Rosie beamed at her Papa. “So it set my mind on a track. I had to see it through.”

  
John looked at Sherlock with a look. “I wish you had told me this!”

  
“Didn’t I?” He asked, surprised. “At the parent-teacher conference.”

  
“That was just sex!” John said, sighing. “Which brings me back to the point. Sex is highly personal and varies from person to person, relationship to relationship. Even between the same couple throughout the years.”

  
“What your Dad is saying is that sex is more than anything you can read in a book. You have to experience it or be exposed to it. So for now, any questions you have are welcomed, but know that there’s no documentary on the human mating rituals. I’ve looked.” Sherlock said, fussing with his curls while studying himself in the mirror. He sat down on the other day to finish getting dressed.

  
Rosie laughed. “Of course you did, my Papa.” She leaned over and kissed her Dad’s cheek. “Daddy, you’ve had several conversations today that I’m sure you’d rather not have. Talking about Mum and a bit about sex.”

  
“Well, baby.” John shrugged. “They had to be had. I’m strong enough now. So why not?”

  
“You should have asked your Uncle Myc!” Sherlock giggled, pulling his socks on.

  
“Oh, leave your brother alone!”

  
“She might get hit with an umbrella.” John said, grinning.

  
“Heaven forbid!” Rosie laughed, sounding just like Mycroft.

  
“I’m going down, Rosie. Want to join me?” John asked, as he finished tying his shoes.

  
“No, I want to walk with my Papa.”

  
“No problem, love.” John kissed her on top of her head, before walking out of the room and down the stairs.

  
Somewhere around the second floor, he heard a loud gunshot like noise. His heart started thumping hard, and all John could think to do was hide. John ran down the remaining stairs, and found a quiet corner to sit in. He leaned against the wall and slid down to a crouch. He hunched down and covered his head. The thoughts in his head were so loud and he could hear reverberations of gunshots in his head. He tried to focus on creating the image of an unruly, overgrown lawn. He mowed through them until the yard was orderly again. He jumped when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

  
“Hi.” said a nice, deep voice. “My name is Mark. Do you mind if I sit with you?”

 

John shook his head, standing up. “I’m ok.” He lied.

 

“I have PTSD. This place is a really triggering for me too.” He spoke kindly.

  
“My husband has it worse than me. So it’s easier to focus on his, but I heard a loud noise. I just couldn’t turn it off.”

  
“This place has that effect sometimes. Are you here with any kids?”

  
“My daughter is twelve.”

  
“Has she seen the castle yet?” John shook his head no. “Wait until she does. All the bullshit just melts away.”

  
“I can’t wait.” John agreed. “I’m John by the way.”

  
“Mark.” He smiled. “If you don’t have them, may I suggest earbuds?”

  
“My husband carries them, and I guess I’ll have to start too. Thank you for checking on me.” John held his hand out to Mark and shook it.

  
“Good luck, brother. Be safe.”

  
“Thank you again. You too.” John hurried to the gift shop and purchased earbuds. He got out to the transport pickup area just as the uber pulled up.

  
“You ok, husband?”

  
John shook his head to mean “not now.” He climbed into the car and stuffed Cinderella earbuds into his ears. He plugged them into his phone and turned on some of the violin music Sherlock recorded for him. John shot Sherlock a text, carefully avoiding the group message.

  
_Anxiety was really bad. JW_  
_Where were you on a scale of 1 to 10? Don’t lie. SW_  
_7 JW_

  
John saw Sherlock’s eyes pop but thankfully he didn’t say anything.

  
_Communicate next time. SW_  
_Where are you now? SW_  
_3 JW_

 

Sherlock placed his phone down and reached out for John’s hand. John took it. “Don’t be mad at me.” John begged.

  
“I can’t help you if I don’t know something’s wrong.” Sherlock said, feeling a bit uptight.

  
“I know, I’m sorry Sherl. I decided to walk down the steps because I know how fond of sweets my husband is and I figured I’d be indulging a bit so I’d made a healthier choice. There was just a loud noise in the stairwell that I wasn’t expecting.”

  
Rosie rolled her eyes at her Dads. “Stop trying to protect me.” She finally chimed in. “I know more about PTSD than you both think I do. Daddy, I can see it on your face that something a bit not good just happened. Please talk to us. We can and will help you.” She kissed John’s temple, and snuggled into Sherlock’s arm. “Papa, stop being a creepy mccreeperson and pay attention to Daddy’s body language. He needs us.”

  
Sherlock leaned over and kissed her head. “Yes, dear.”

  
“Now, both of you listen to me, I am the biggest adult in the whole vehicle and if I don’t know what’s going on than I can’t help. So talk to me or request that one of you handle it before it’s brought to me. Understood?”

  
“Yes my love.” John said, tapping morse code into Sherlock’s hand. He was saying, “I love you” over and over. He was focusing on Sherlock’s physical being being next to him. It helped to keep him calm.

  
“Also,” she started, then stopped when she saw where they were. They were were pulling up to the restaurant. “You two are very lucky as I’m not feeling like lecturing my two terribly behaved parents on my vacation.”

  
They exited the vehicle, and walked over to where everyone was queueing up. A text message popped up in the group message.

  
_Be there in 5 minutes. MH_  
_No prob unc xo RW_

  
John clung to Sherlock’s hand, and continued to play his violin music. He focused on the tune that he loved so much. It helped him to feel better. Sherlock tapped him to get his attention. John pulled an ear bud out.

  
“I’m going to go talk to the hostesses. Stay here with Rosie.” he instructed. Rosie stepped over to him and took his hand. She smiled at her Papa.

  
“Dad’ll be fine. I’ve got him.”

  
“I’m not a toddler.”

  
“No, you’re not.” Rosie agreed, as Sherlock walked away.

  
Sherlock walked up to the hostess stand where three cast members stood. Gay, straight, straight came flying at him. He placed a bright grin on his face.

 

“Hello. I was wondering if you-. Maybe you could help me.” Rainbow bracelet on second straight. Rainbow tattoo faintly visible under the first straight’s company approved uniform. “Do you see that man over there? The absolutely breathtaking blonde man holding hands with his mini-me?”

 

They all nodded, looking at John.

 

“I love that man with all that I am. I could sell the devil a heater if that's what he asked of me. Ridiculous I know,” Somehow he made his smile brighter. “but he has really bad PTSD and I’m afraid the seats I purchased for dinner aren’t appropriate. I’m just worried that he will have a panic attack sitting in the middle of things. Is there anyway we can switch with someone from the balcony out to have the room? I’ll pay for any extras. It’s just my husband means the world to me and our daughter really wanted to do this.” Sherlock asked, trying to sound a bit upset.

 

“I know I could leave her here with her Uncle, but I don’t think that is what she’d want. She wants to spend all the time with us.” He glanced over at John with a worried look. Rosie had engaged him in conversation. He was forgetting everything around him. “His ex-wife is a total bitch and doesn’t let us have her very often. So please, can we work something out?”

  
The gay man smiled at him, and picked up the radio on the podium. He said a garbled message into it. Shortly an Asian man appeared just behind them. Politely Sherlock avoided eye contact with any of them while they discussed what he had just said. He glanced over at John. John was still completely focused on his daughter. “Sir,” The manager beamed at him. “We can absolutely rearrange things. Your name please?”

  
“Sherlock Watson.” He grinned at them. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how important this is to our daughter.”

  
“No problem.” the man smiled at him.

  
Sherlock looked at his name and texted it to Rosie with the cast compliment hash tag attached. “Thank you so much, Tom. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been.” Suddenly Mycroft’s complaining voice reached him. “My brother is here, finally. Thank you so much.”

  
Tom had switched the two parties and smiled at him. “Why don’t we go collect your party and I’ll take you on a little tour before the show starts?”

  
“Oh, that- You don’t have to.”

  
“It’s no problem! Sometimes it helps to know where the speakers are to help prevent upsets.”

  
“Thank you so much.” Sherlock said, before he walked over to his little family. “Come on guys.” He grabbed his husband’s hand. “Hullo, Myc!”

  
“What have you done, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked. “You only say the Mummy “hullo!” when you’re especially pleased with yourself.”

  
“Guys, this is Tom. He’s going to take us on a little tour before the meal.” John squeezed his hand to let him know he understood. Rosie took her Uncle’s hand and followed her two fathers. Tom was exceptionally kind and took them on a tour pointing out all the speakers and managed to find earplugs for John to wear. He finally escorted them to their box. It was on the upper level on the left all the way in the back. It was quiet and nicely set for the four of them. There were pitchers of lemonade, tea, and water on the table.  
This time, Mycroft managed to pull Rosie’s seat out for her. “So, spill, Sherlock.” Mycroft said, sitting down himself. John sat down in between Rosie and Sherlock.

  
“Yes, dear husband. What was that?”

  
“Nothing. We just had to check in earlier than everyone else.” He smiled.

  
“You’re lying!” Rosie said in a sing-songy voice. “I know when you’re lying.”

  
“We all do at this point.” John added.

  
“I just flirted a bit to get us a box. I thought the sound would be lessened if we had walls instead of other people near us.” Sherlock admitted, hoping it was truth enough that no one would call him out on it.

  
“You clever man.” John grinned at him. “That’s why they gave me ear plugs.”

  
“Yes.” Sherlock smiled kindly at him.

  
Mycroft stared at him. “I don’t know you at all brother mine. You are never this kind.”

  
“That’s because I love John Hamish more than anything else in this whole world except for insulting Anderson.”

 

John laughed heartily, and Rosie smirked quite a bit. “That’s really gross, Papa.”

  
“Touching, I’m sure.” Mycroft said, grumpily.

  
“You’re surly. Did you not get laid?”

  
“I went shopping.” Mycroft said, shooting a very pointed look at Sherlock. It meant shut your vicious mouth brother mine.

  
John howled. “So you “went shopping”, got the bus, got back to the hotel, caught another bus here, and still made it early to the reservations? You must be an expediente shopper.”

  
Rosie started laughing loudly. “Jesus, Uncle Myc. Just say he stood you up.”

  
“But he didn’t.” Sherlock said. “As everyone here knows when everyone else is lying, he didn’t want to say something stupid so the shopping excuse was convenient. I further deduce,” Sherlock giggled. “The “I went shopping” line wasn’t a lie because he bought lube and condoms. Well done, brother mine. I’m glad you were safe.”

  
Mycroft’s cheeks were bright pink. “Shut your foul mouth.”

  
“Oh. He was bad.” John concluded. “Sorry, mate. I’ll find you a better fuck next time.”

  
A waiter walked into the room, and the laughter died down. He ran through his usual spiel and they all nodded understanding. Once he left the room Mycroft turned to Sherlock with a very pointed look. “A dinner show?”

  
“Oh, no.” Sherlock giggled. “Today has been nothing but a disappointment to you. Perhaps you need the ear plugs?” He asked, holding them out to Mycroft. John was wheezing with laughter.

  
“John, Sherlock!” Rosie cried, sounding just like her uncle. “Both of you need to behave yourselves in the presence of an seven year old lady!” Rosie didn’t even pause a moment, before she added in her voice. “Uncle Myc! I’m almost thirteen!”

  
Mycroft sighed, and glared around the table. “Are the three of you done yet?”

  
John giggled, “Probably not, Myc.”

  
“Definitely don’t hold your breath!” Rosie laughed.

  
“Oh, Rosie, you are just as bad as your fathers.” Mycroft said.

  
“Tomorrow, we have to be downstairs waiting for the bus to Epcot for 07:30. We have breakfast scheduled at The Land for 08:15.” Sherlock grinned at everyone.

  
“Oooo. We’re going to the park, tomorrow?”

  
“Yes, my love.”

  
“Just Epcot or Magic Kingdom?” John asked, placing his hand on Sherlock’s knee under the table.

  
“Just Epcot this week. We’re going to spend the week at the Flower and Garden show. I’ve got great restaurants planned and a behind the Seeds tour!” Sherlock said, enthusiastically. Sherlock put his hand under the table and laced his fingers through John’s.

  
“Thank you for all your hard work.” John said, leaning into him. “I really am enjoying myself.”

  
“Me too, Papa!” Rosie managed to add, before the dinner show started.

 

 

The dinner show was corny and it really annoyed Mycroft so Sherlock felt like it was a win. Sherlock carefully monitored John during the show to make sure that he was okay during it. He was. John kept squeezing Sherlock’s hand during the show. Rosie enjoyed both herself and the food. Basically everyone praised Sherlock for his choice, but Mycroft who complained bitterly. He did ask to get a taxi because his head hurt. Sherlock only ordered one because he wanted to keep John away from the crowds.

  
Once Uber had dropped them off, John wandered ahead with Rosie. Sherlock grabbed Mycroft’s arm, and held up a finger meaning “I need your attention for a minute”.

  
“I think that maybe we should hire a car service.” Sherlock admitted, looking at Mycroft. “John had a really bad anxiety episode today and I know that mindless chatter from large groups tends to trigger him. So if he knew we had a car picking us up he’d feel better.”

  
Mycroft smiled at Sherlock. “Are you asking me to handle this?”

  
“Yes, please.” Sherlock said, kindly watching his heart outside his body follow their daughter into the building.

  
“You’re anxious.” Mycroft noticed, staring at John and Rosie disappearing. “I’ll handle it brother mine.” Mycroft pulled his little brother’s head to him and gently kissed it. “Thank John for setting me up with that man. It’s not his fault it went poorly.”

  
“He talked too much.” Sherlock said, after Mycroft pulled away from him.

  
The brothers walked into the lobby and to their designated Watsons. That fleeting moment of tenderness between the two grown men was the most precious thing that had happened on the entire trip so far. Neither of them would say so. In fact, they’d deny that they were even kind to each other if pressed. “Good night, brother mine.” He reached out, and touched Mycroft’s elbow briefly. He pulled Rosie into his arms. “Sweet dreams, daughter mine.”

  
“Good night Papa.” She hugged him, then hugged John too. “Good night, Daddy. See you both tomorrow.”

  
“Sweet dreams, daughter ours.” John called, as they turned to walk away.

  
“Wait!” Rosie shouted, slipping something out of Mycroft’s pocket. “Don’t forget your condoms and lube!” She said, waving them around above her head as a group of teenagers walked by. They all snickered. Sherlock snatched them away from her. He glared at his brother.

  
“Good night, brother mine.” Mycroft called with a laugh. John was tinged bright pink, but giggling himself.

  
“Don’t be upset, ‘Lock. He probably bought the good stuff.”


	4. 3/14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you kitkat49!!!!!!! This one's for you.

When John woke the next morning, he looked at the clock. It read 05:43. John grinned, and rolled out of bed. He heard the shower running so he went into the bathroom. He voided his bladder, washed his hands, and then brushed his teeth. He kept glancing at his gorgeous naked husband in the shower. John pulled his pants off, and stepped into the shower with Sherlock. John had a look of desire burning out through his eyes. He pushed Sherlock back to the far wall and fell to his knees. Before Sherlock could assess what was going on or stop it, John swallowed his husband’s erection down. Sherlock’s fingers pushed the water spout back so it fell on John’s back and not his face. He brought those same fingers back to John’s hair and grabbed.

  
“Good morning, husband mine.” Sherlock croaked, sleep still thick in his voice. He moaned, and pulled on John’s hair. John bobbed slowly up and down his shaft, swirling his tongue on the sensitive head. “Jooooohn.” Sherlock said, pleased. John loved the way his penis would harden and fill his mouth as John worked.

  
John removed Sherlock’s erection from his mouth, “The more you praise me, the better the blowjob.” Then pulled it into his mouth again. John licked and swirled the leaking head tasting the pre-come that he loved.

  
Sherlock growled. “God damn it, John. Fuck. Do that tongue- ahhhh. John.” Sherlock tried to praise John, but grew very distracted by John’s mouth. “Your mouth… Is pure fucking magic….” John hummed in pleasure, and swallowed all of Sherlock. He pulled back until his mouth was empty, and then swallowed him again. Over and over he did this. “John, please. Use your tongue… OOooh. John. Please. Just like that.” Sherlock said, as John swirled his tongue over the sensitive leaking head. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” John loved when Sherlock cursed like this, it was a sign that he was going to come very soon.

  
“Come for me, ‘Lock. Please. Don’t you want to make me happy?” John said, looking up at Sherlock through his lashes. John sucked hard at his husband’s erection and maintained eye contact.

  
“Fuuuuuck, Jooooohn!” He rasped as he came down John’s throat, holding John’s eyes with his. Sherlock’s hips were wildly bucking, and John was shivering with pleasure. John pulled away from his husband’s dick. He wiped his mouth, and stood up. He reached behind him and turned the shower off.

 

“Fabulous, love.” John grinned at him.

  
He grabbed him by a fistful of his wild curls and pulled him into the main room. He threw him down on all fours. “I’m going to fuck you until your knees are bleeding. Then you’ll walk around all day with sore knees and you’ll know who you belong to. Not that you’d ever forget such an important detail.” John stood behind his husband, and pulled his ass cheeks apart. “I think a nice quick fuck is what my little cock slut deserves. Mmm, what do you think my posh boy?”

  
Sherlock whined, audibly. “Please, John. Hurt me.” he begged.

  
“What a dear lad you are.” John grinned, guiding his penis into Sherlock’s muscular arse. “Arse all the way up.” John instructed. “So compliant. Such a good slut you are.” John gave no warning before he buried himself in Sherlock’s arse. Sherlock didn’t complain though, he relished the burning. John didn’t pause a moment, fucking his arse roughly.  
“Joooohn.” Sherlock called, John’s fierce movements rocked his entire body.

  
John held his hips and repeatedly slammed into his arse. “Do you like this? Of course you do, slut. That’s what you’re best at. Opening your tight… God. Sherl. Your arse is perfect.” John adjusted his grip and doubled his efforts. “Fucking A. ‘Lock!” John said, Sherlock crouched lower on the floor which put his arse up higher for his husband. “Such a good slut… God.” John whined, slamming into Sherlock. John pulled almost all the way out, Sherlock whined at the emptiness, and then slammed back in. Over and over he did this, Sherlock realizing that John was so goddamn close.

  
“Fuck me, John. please.” he started begging. He knew that John loved hearing his voice and even more when he was begging. “Please, John.” Sherlock whined. “Make it hurt. Please. Please, Dr. Watson.”

  
It was the “Dr. Watson” that got John to come, finally. John continued to fuck his way through the orgasm, and finally pulled out. He slumped down on the floor. Sherlock crawled into his arms and they lay in a post-sex puddle. John stirred first, trying to stretch his body out with all of Sherlock’s weight on him. “Get up, my love. We need to get ready for the day.” Sherlock made a discontented noise. “You’re on vacation with both your daughter and your brother who excel in your deductions game. Do you want them to deduce that you couldn’t be arsed to get ready because you were in a sex haze?”

 

“Cruel husband.” Sherlock said, standing up off him. “I’m going to shower. Care to join me?”

  
John glanced at the time. 06:34. “Go, be quick. I need to bathe myself. I am covered in your sex smell.”

  
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.” Sherlock grinned at him, before offering him a hand up. John took it with a grin, and slapped his arse as he walked away.

  
“God, I love your arse.”

  
“I love yours too.” Sherlock called, climbing back in the shower. John came into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror.

  
“What if I grow a beard?” John asked.

  
Sherlock made a response that sounded like a dying moose under the water. He moved his head, and said it again. “Yes, please.”

  
“Fabulous.” John grinned, brushing his teeth again. Sometimes he thought about all those sperms on his teeth and it grossed him out. Sherlock turned the water off, and stepped out. He grabbed John’s arse, and bit his shoulder appreciatively. “Mmmm. Your mouth.” John said.

  
“Your turn, my love. I just needed to condition my hair.”

  
“Of course you did my posh boy.” John turned and kissed his husband. Sherlock loved when John paid him attention like this. He felt like a true posh boy, but he’d never tell John that. Sherlock went into the main room and took his time getting dressed. He inspected both his knees to see liberal abrasions there. A text message interrupted him.

 

  
_Good morning, brothers mine. The car will be here at 07:30. Sorry, John. I know you have an affinity for public transportation, but my fancy ass can’t abide it any longer. MH_   
_Inappropriate, Uncle Myc! RW_

 

Sherlock laughed at his daughter, and turned back to inspecting his knees. Sherlock grinned at them, and went back to getting himself ready. John came out of the bathroom to see Sherlock staring at himself critically. “You look delicious my love.” John reassured him. Sherlock’s face lit up like a christmas tree.

  
“Thank you, darling.” Sherlock pulled his t-shirt down a bit and turned towards John. “Do you like my shirt?”

  
“It’s perfect!” John giggled, after glancing at the dark blue “Planet Ear-arth” shirt. Ever since Rosie was a baby, Sherlock had been obsessed with 2003 Disney’s Lilo and Stitch movie. Sherlock loved Stitch beyond belief. In fact, years ago, John had bought Rosie a three foot tall Stitch stuffed animal that managed to make it into their bed and never left. John felt sure that Stitch finding his family made Sherlock feel like he wasn’t alone, so John accepted Sherlock’s love for Stitch.

  
“Will you wear your Monster’s Inc one?” Sherlock asked, pulling it out of John’s drawer.

  
“Of course my love.” John smiled at him. John pulled it over his head, and saw Sherlock eye him in approval. It was a heather gray t-shirt with the magazine cover from Monster Inc with Sully and Mike. It had titles from his blog as the headlines. Rosie had created it for Father’s day last year. Sherlock pulled his husband into a selfie and took a photo.

John laughed at his excitement, as he finished getting dressed.

  
He sent the photo to his daughter in a private message.

  
_Look how cute Dad and I are! Squeal! SW_  
 _LOL dad! You’re so adorbs. Xoxo RW_  
 _The next text was a selfie photo of Rosie and Uncle Myc. She had her “Be a beast” t-shirt on and he had his “Be the Belle” t-shirt on._  
 _Look at us! Xoxo RW_  
 _I love it! You guys look great. SW_

  
“John, look at our daughter with her Uncle!” He showed him the photo. John giggled, and kissed his husband’s cheek.

  
“So my posh love. Backpack time.” John corralled him, into organizing his backpack. John slung his on his back. “What do you think about taking your anxiety medication at the start of the day? Maybe you won’t feel overwhelmed?”

  
Sherlock chewed his lip. “You think now and at three?”

  
“Yes, or when appropriate.” John nodded. Sherlock nodded his agreement. He busied himself to take it. John walked behind him and hugged him. “Thank you for taking care of me last night husband. I never thought that I’d be able to enjoy a trip like this.” John squeezed him appreciatively.

  
“I never wanted to go on a trip like this until you.” Sherlock said, after he swallowed his medication. “Do you have your ear buds, and your ear plugs?”

  
“Yes love. In my tiny pouch with my phone. Do you have yours?” John inquired, releasing him.

  
“Yes, I do.” Sherlock looked at his husband's wrist and grinned. “Magic bands on. Let’s roll.”

  
Together they left their hotel room and made their way down to the transportation area. Waiting for them was a sleek black SUV, with their daughter hanging out the sunroof. John laughed, as they approached the car. “Good morning, brothers mine.” Mycroft greeted them with a bit of a “I know who you have been doing look.”

  
“Good morning, Myc. Couldn’t handle the bus again?” John smiled at him.

  
“Not a minute longer.” He agreed.

  
Sherlock let go of John’s hand and pulled Mycroft into a hug. He squeezed him tightly and whispered a fervent “thank you so much.” Surprised Mycroft hugged him back. John managed to snap two photos of them hugging. He quickly texted it to Mrs. Hudson with the words “Vacation miracle.” Sherlock pulled away, and wiped his eyes as he did so. He headed straight for the car. John followed with a knowing smile on his face. Mycroft pulled up the rear.

  
The car ride to Epcot was a quiet one, everyone had their own trains of thought they were following. Rosie was trying to calculate all the fuel WDW used in an hour. John was thinking about his mornings activities with his husband, even letting his fingers brush against the abrasions on his knees. Mycroft was carefully reviewing and filing away the impromptu hug in his mind palace. While Sherlock was removing some of the nastier bits of Mycroft’s home in his mind palace. The driver dropped them off and disappeared. The Watson-Holmes family followed the signs to the bag check, then the AP gate. Where each one of them scanned their magic bands, then their fingers. As soon as they walked in the park, they all crowded around Sherlock and he did what he did best and took the led.

  
The topiaries and the memory bricks were skipped over because Rosie was anxious to get into the park properly. Sherlock led the way through the park. They went under the large ball entitled Spaceship Earth. They walked to the right through two Innoventions buildings to the Land pavilion. Rosie tried to look everywhere at once, but failed miserably. John took her hand so she wouldn’t get lost, despite her trying to keep up.

  
“Dad.” She said, stopping and staring around her. “This place is amazing.” John chuckled his agreement, then pulled her hand to catch up with the brothers. Sherlock made them take a group selfie in front of the Land sign, then led them into the building. Of course Sherlock Watson was an expert in being singularly focused and this help them make it to the check in podium ten minutes early. A perky cast member took them to their seats. They all crowded in, and settled in. A Waiter came over and discussed the meal.

  
As soon as the food appeared, it seemed to disappear. The Watson-Holmes were hungry this morning. Even Mycroft indulged a bit. It was good for him to be so relaxed.

  
“Papa, what’s on the docket for today?” Rosie asked, after sitting back down after meeting Donald Duck.

  
Sherlock neatly wiped his mouth, then said. “Behind the seeds tour at 10:30 and dinner tonight at our hotel at 19:00. Boma. I have a few fast passes today. We’re going to hit up the Land pavilion, The Seas, and Spaceship Earth.”

  
“Are we going to go to the two water parks?” Mycroft inquired, pushing his plate away from him.

  
“We can. I hadn’t planned on it. I figured Rosie would be too big-” Rosie squeaked at these words. “Ok. I’ll make a plan to go. Wednesday and Thursday, my dear daughter?”

  
“You’re a good man, Papa.” Rosie said, grinning.

  
John placed his glass down, and looked at Sherlock. “When are we going to the castle?”

  
“Next week.” Sherlock said. John huffed in displeasure. “Patience, my love.”

  
“I don’t want to be patient.” Sounding very much like his husband.

  
“I have dinner scheduled for 20:15 so we can watch the fireworks from the castle.”

  
This comment seemed to appease John, who winked at his husband. “Perfect.”

  
“Rosamund Watson.” Sherlock said, suddenly, reviewing his schedule for Wednesday. “I am not canceling breakfast with Stitch. You’ll have to go to the water park after it.” Sherlock looked at Mycroft with a suspicious look. “What do you have planned for Saturday and Sunday?”

  
“Hush, brother mine. Those days are mine to plan.” Mycroft said, protectively.

  
Sherlock gasped, audibly. Mickey Mouse was coming to their table. Sherlock got very excited all of a sudden. “John Watson, take our picture!” He said, standing up to hug Mickey.

  
Rationally Sherlock knew that this wasn’t the REAL Mickey Mouse as he was a fictional character, but he couldn’t contain his excitement. He hugged Mickey and whispered a heartfelt “thank you”. The person in the costume must have recognized him, because he said with a Mickey chuckle. “You’re welcome, Sherlock!” John took his picture and Sherlock was beaming. Rosie got on the other side and took a picture with them both. Mickey left with a jolly wave and skip. Sherlock slid back into his seat. John was staring at him in awe.

  
“Did you pay them to do that?” John asked.

  
“No!” Sherlock grinned. “He knew my name!” Amazement was clearly in his voice.

  
“Disney magic, love.” John smiled at him, happily. It was probably something to do with RDF, but John refused to follow that train of thought. His husband was happy down to his toes, how could he crush that?

  
They left shortly after that, and made their way to Soarin’. They were able to ride it twice before they left the area. They quickly explored the pavilion until it was time for the “Behind the Seeds” tour. Sherlock pronounced it “Dull!” and everyone took it as their cue to leave. They walked over to the Seas pavilion and Sherlock liked that one much more. He enjoyed the The Seas with Nemo and Friends. Rosie got a great video of her Papa acting like a child and trying to provoke the seagulls into shouting “Mine!”

  
In that moment, John knew this trip was less about making memories with Rosie and was more about Sherlock indulging his childish side. He wasn’t mad, per se, but as soon as he could, he would correct this action.

  
After they finished in the Seas, they went to Spaceship Earth and rode that three times. Mycroft loved it, surprisingly. He kept laughing and saying how great that ride was. After they exited the ride for the third time, John went over to a bench and sat down. Everyone followed.

  
“‘Lock.” John said, using the same tone from earlier that day. “I’m tired.”

  
“I’m not!” Rosie said, grinning, completely missing the point.

  
Sherlock understood the tone in his voice. “Mycroft, I’m going to take John back to the room for a nap. Rosie, stay with your uncle. There’s a lot of science in the Innoventions buildings. We’ll meet you guys at Boma in our hotel for 18:50.” John stood up, and took Sherlock’s hand to lead him away. Sherlock felt an excitement in him that wasn’t there ten minutes ago.

  
“I wouldn’t be too excited.” John said, darkly. “I’m not happy with your behavior.” They joined the queue for the bus, and John steadfastly held Sherlock’s hand. The bus ride back was a quiet affair. Despite the threat of being in trouble, Sherlock loved this in between time where he knew he’d be getting fucked, but not when.

  
The bus got them back to the hotel quickly. They hastily went to their room. As soon as the door shut, John was in charge. He locked the door behind him.

“Get undressed. Fold your clothes nicely. Then on your knees.” John commanded. “Now.”

  
“John.” came that soft whinethat John loved so much. 

  
“Do not push your luck.” John said, through gritted teeth. Sherlock rapidly undressed himself. He almost forgot to fold his clothes. He shivered with pleasure as he did so. He placed them nicely in a pile on the tv stand. Sherlock carefully got down on his knees with his feet tucked under his arse. He placed his hands on his knees like John liked him. Sherlock cast his eyes downward, not wanting to make it worse for himself. He wasn’t able to wipe the smirk off his face though. That did not sit well with John, who grabbed a fistful of Sherlock’s wild curls. “Sherlock.” He pulled them, and tilted Sherlock’s head up to him. “You trick me into going on a vacation for Rosie and the memories, but then you spend today serving yourself.” John made a disappointed noise. “Have I misread the situation? Were you being selfless when I saw you being selfish? Speak now, boy, before you make it worse for yourself.”

  
Sherlock gasped like a fish out of water for a minute, then said “I was selfish.”

  
“Mmm.” John agreed, then released him with a deep breathe. “In punishment, I’m going to have you sit still, then pink your ass with my flip flop.” Sherlock whined. “But you’re going to comply easily, aren’t you?” John asked, in a very bossy tone.

  
“Yes, John.” Sherlock said, quietly. John grabbed a fistful of hair.

  
“You’re going to sit there, until I see how repentant you are. No noise, Sherlock. No movement. You will be still and silent until I’m satisfied no matter how long it takes.” Sherlock squeaked. “Do you think this is a joke?” Sherlock furiously shook his head no. John went over to the window, and drew the curtain open to let the sun in. He basked in the sunlight for a minute, then turned back to Sherlock. “I hope I’m not disappointed in you.” John said.

  
Sherlock instantly stilled under John’s gaze. John pulled his phone out of his pocket, and turned on violin music that made John happiest. He walked over to the chair, and pulled it over to sit in front of his husband. “It’s almost like we’re at home. Me in my chair, my forever misbehaving husband on his knees. I think I’ll ring for tea. Wouldn’t Mrs. Hudson love to see her favorite person kneeling on his knees in trouble?” John saw Sherlock close his eyes. John snatched up his flip flop and struck Sherlock. “No mind palace.”  
“I’m sorry.” Sherlock panted, as the sting of the flip flop spread out on his skin. “Red!” he gasped, hating the flip flop.

  
“Red?” John turned to him, with an even stare.

  
“The flip flop felt too much like Serbia.” He managed to say. John lowered himself to his own knees.

  
“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” John said, gently. He placed his hands kindly on either side of Sherlock’s face. “Look at me, love.” Sherlock lifted his head, to lock eyes with him. John searched those stormy eyes for a lie.There was none. John watched Sherlock lock Serbia away in his head, and burn the room down. Well, that’s what he saw even if there were no words spoken of it.

  
“No flip flop.” Sherlock requested.

  
“Agreed, husband mine.” John said, still cradling his face. Sherlock saw the promise there, the one that John lived everyday. The whole “doing better” thing that he aimed for.  
“Green.” Sherlock said, swallowing hard.

  
John leaned in and kissed him, deeply. “You’re in so much trouble.” John reminded him. Sherlock’s eyes showed understanding. John stood up, and walked over to the phone.

He called room service. “Hi, I’d love a pot of tea. No twinnings, if you have something different. Also, I’d like a large pizza and toast with raspberry jam. No, that’s everything. Thank you.” John hung up the phone, and turned back to Sherlock. He looked at his phone it was 1201.

 

“This right here is just practice.” John said, walking around Sherlock. He ran his fingers over his shoulders and neck. “You see, I need tea, but while we wait.” John grinned at him. He turned his back to Sherlock for a moment and grabbed one of his own books. “Let’s see what I can do about this.” John waved it at Sherlock. “King Arthur. Let’s see how far we can get in this without you exploding.”

 

So John sat in his armchair while his husband kneeled on the floor listening to every word John was saying. John read for 23 minutes until the room service came. He opened the door to the cast member, whose eyes widen in surprise. John read her name tag and saw she was from Russia. “Sherlock, tell Aya here what’s going on. She speaks Russian.”

  
“My name is Sherlock Watson and I am married to the blonde man. We are playing a sex game and I am losing. What is happening is completely by choice. I am safe.”  
Aya did not respond, except to nod. John signed the credit card slip and tipped her extra. She disappeared from the room.

  
“Very good work.” John said, returned to pace around him. “You’re the sexiest man in the world when you are being kind.” Sherlock saved John’s words in his mind palace. John left his hand trail up Sherlock’s back causing him to shiver.

 

“Now, let’s see what kind of tea they brought me.” John busied himself with the tea tray. He watched Sherlock in the mirror’s reflection. There! He thought just a bit of movement, but he waited a moment. He saw Sherlock inch carefully to see what John was doing. John did not hesitate. He turned around and grabbed Sherlock by his curls. “Apparently you think my previous kindness has negated my previous instructions.” John pulled over to the chair where John flopped himself firmly down, and pulled Sherlock over his knee. Quickly, he cracked Sherlock’s arse ten times in succession. Sherlock whimpered a bit. “I thought I said silence.”

John gritted his teeth together and slapped Sherlock’s arse fifteen more times.

  
“Are you ready to comply?” John asked, feeling his husband’s body slump. “You must answer me, darling boy.”

  
“Yes, John.” Sherlock said, lowering his head.

  
“Well, show me how eager you are.” John said, waving his hand. Sherlock crawled back to the middle of the room, and got into position. “Eyes on me, Sherlock.” John added a new instruction. John got up and went back to his tea, and brought it back over to the chair. He sat down again and sipped his tea. “Turn around love. I want to see your arse.” Sherlock turned around slowly, and put his arse up in the air. “So pretty.” John said. Suddenly he abandoned the tea and got himself a slice of pizza. He took a bite as he eyed Sherlock in the mirror. “Jesus, Sherl. Your arse is a piece of art.”

  
John placed the pizza down. He undressed himself, watching Sherlock. He picked up his pizza again, and walked over to Sherlock. “Up, slut.” Sherlock sat back on his feet again.

“You are at the perfect angle to give me head. I’ve been working so hard today. I think that I’ve earned this.” Happiness shone in Sherlock’s eyes. “If I drop my pizza, you are fucked.” John said, taking a bite of his pizza. “Are you waiting for a special invitation?” John inquired, grabbing a fistful of Sherlock’s curls. Sherlock hastened to it. He picked up John’s engorged dick with two hands and licked up the shaft. It was sweaty and Sherlock couldn’t stop the slight moan that escaped. John didn’t tug on the curls, but he did tighten his grip. Happily he took another bite of pizza. Sherlock swallowed John down and started bobbing up and down his husband’s dick. “God, Slut. You are so good at what you do. Mmm.” John bit his pizza, and suddenly forgot how to chew because Sherlock was doing that thing with his tongue that drove John nuts. He felt Sherlock’s hum of approval at John’s body relaxing. He forced himself to chew. Suddenly all he wanted to do was fuck his husband senseless.

  
“Stop.” John commanded, tossing the pizza over to the bed. “Bend over the armchair.” Sherlock hastened to comply. Very quickly he was bent over the arm of the chair. John wasted no time in fucking him. He used both of his hands to pull Sherlock’s arse cheeks apart. John plowed into his husband, pulled out, and plowed back in. He was not being gentle and everytime John’s skin touched Sherlock’s warm arse, Sherlock hissed. “Talk to me.” John growled.

  
“Oh, god, John. Your cock feels so good.” He managed, as he tried to grab something on the chair to hold onto. John slammed harder into Sherlock’s arse, adjusting his grip. Now when he slammed into Sherlock he was hitting his prostate. “God, John. Fuck.” he managed, breathlessly. Every time John slammed into his arse, Sherlock was fighting the urge to scream. “God damn it, mother fucking fuck. John!” He finally said, coming all over the arm of the chair. John chuckled, and fucked him through his orgasm with his own shortly after.

  
Sherlock came down first. He realized that John was in a post orgasmic haze and sprung into action. He went to the bathroom and wet a towel. He cleaned himself off, and then John too. When the cold rag touched John’s skin he jumped. Sherlock giggled, but discarded the towel in favor of toast. John managed to get up off the floor and sit in his chair. He grabbed a slice of pizza and dug in.

  
“That was fun.” Sherlock finally said, swallowing his mouthful of toast. John glanced at the alarm clock.1443.

  
“Hmm. No wonder I’m so hungry. Sherlock hasn’t fed me in hours.”

  
“You were in charge there and you fed me but I’m starving.” Sherlock said, pouring himself some tea. He brought a mug over to John and sat down on John’s lap. They sipped their tea in peaceful silence. “Want to go swimming?” Sherlock asked.

  
“Yes. Let’s.” John handed Sherlock the piece of pizza they were sharing and he reached for his phone. He texted Mycroft and Rosie in the group.  
  
_Going swimming. JW_  
 _How was your nap, Dad? XO RW_  
 _Refreshing. JW_  
 _We’ll join you. MH_

  
“They’re going to join us.” John announced. Sherlock nodded, then got up to get the swim stuff. When he came back, John pulled him down for a kiss. “Cock slut.”

  
“Only for you.” Sherlock agreed, with a grin.

  
“What ever did I do to deserve you?” John asked, smiling at his husband. “Those perfect lips belong around my cock.”

  
“Those gorgeous eyes belong on me.”

  
John chuckled, “these old eyes have never left you.”

  
Sherlock grinned at him. “Thank fuck.”

  
“Ooo, that filthy mouth of yours.” John grinned, kissing him.

  
“Get dressed before I decide you need to come again.” Sherlock said, as he pulled his own shirt over his head. John laughed and pulled his swim clothes on.

  
“Can I wear my flip flops downstairs?”

  
“Yes, just don’t hit me with them.”

  
“I wasn’t planning on it.” John said, slipping them on. He dropped his cell phone and went to the door to wait. Sherlock took the hint and hurried up getting dressed.  
“Let’s get down to business, love.” Sherlock grinned at him. They headed down to the pool and took over a table. They both ordered fruity drinks. John set an alarm to give them time to go back to the room and change. John added his phone to the table and his towel. They both abandoned the table and jumped into the pool.

  
The afternoon passed pleasantly especially once their kid and brother joined them. When John’s timer went off, they all went to their rooms to get ready. They all met outside of Boma just in time for dinner. They waited a bit, then they went to their table. Dinner was a quiet affair, that is until Sherlock asked Rosie how her afternoon went.

  
“It was so much fun, Papa! Uncle Myc and I explored all four of the Innoventations buildings. I enjoyed myself! Then I got to meet Baymax.”

  
“Who?”

  
“Duh, Papa.” John said, with a grin. “Everybody’s favorite healthcare companion.”

  
“That’s awesome!” Sherlock said, smiling.

  
“That’s what I said.” Mycroft said. “How was your day?”

  
“I napped. Sherlock paced and ranted.” John said, shrugging. “I don’t know if I’m coming down with something.”

 

“I doubt you’re sick.” Rosie said. “You’re just tired from all the sex you’ve been having.”

  
Mycroft laughed so hard, he was crying. Sherlock was smirking, John was flabbergasted. “Well, noted, Rosie.” He finally managed.

  
“Is it a secret?” She looked at Sherlock for an answer. In most ways, Rosie was a mini-Sherlock and this was one of them. She assumed that everyone could play deductions like she could so she didn’t understand sometimes why people were astonished that she knew what she did.

  
Sherlock looked at John, who nodded as if to say “go ahead, you know the answer.” “Uh. People generally try to keep their sex life private. Your deductions are always spot on, but no one really says what you just said out loud. John says it’s not the socially acceptable thing to do. I think it’s a load of malarkey.”

  
Rosie sighed. “We teased Uncle Myc yesterday. How is this different?”

  
Sherlock looked at John, like “I got nothing.” John cleared his throat. “That was a judgement error on our behalf. We very often forget you’re only twelve. Your Papa and I tease Myc about everything. Honestly, Rosie you don’t behave like a child. You haven’t for some years.”

  
“Children are dull.” She said, with disdain. “I’d much rather be smart like Papa.”

  
John sighed and looked at Mycroft. His eyes said, “You’re the polite one of us.” Mycroft looked at her. “We don’t talk about sex in mixed company.”

  
Rosie rolled her eyes. “I’m always in mixed company. I live with two dads.”

  
“Asking Dads about sex in private is one thing. When were are in public, or mixed company, we don’t talk about sex, politics, or religion.”

  
Sherlock snorted. “Then you’d never speak.”

  
“Shut it, brother mine.” Mycroft said, rolling his eyes.

  
Rosie sighed. “All these rules are stupid. I should have been a boy.” she sighed, placing her elbows on the table on purpose.

  
“You could still be a boy if that’s what your heart is telling you.” Sherlock said.

  
“So, Myc, let’s say one day that Rosie is in a situation where she’s ready to bring a woman home, but they’re at a table with a gay couple. Is she allowed to mention sex then?”

  
“Yes, John, because I’ll have died from answering your stupid questions by then.”

  
“Rude.” Rosie said, giggling. “Well, I love you boys, but I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted. What time tomorrow?”

  
“Breakfast on your own. Waiting for the car for eleven.” Rosie nodded her approval.

  
“I’ll escort you.” Mycroft volunteered. “Good night, brothers mine.” Rosie kissed both their heads, then Mycroft followed. She took his hand, and pulled him away.

  
“We do have to be more careful around her.”

  
“She just said, “children are dull”. Weren’t you listening?”

  
“I was, but I don’t care about that.” John said, yawning. “We do have to be more careful. Try to shield her from things that are too grown up for her.”

  
“Yes, my love.” Sherlock agreed, looking for the waiter.

  
“Can I hold you tonight, my darling cock slut?” John said, without a blush. Sherlock was scarlett when the waiter came over. He dealt with the bill, and waited until they were out of the restaurant before he answered.

  
“Yes, please.” Sherlock said, finally. “I tried to complain about being called a cock slut but I can’t because I am one. I tried to be witty and call you delicious cock haver and that just sounded terrible.”

  
“So I’ll hold you tonight and tomorrow morning you wake me up to shower.”

  
“Can we have sex again tomorrow?” Sherlock asked, then whined. “It’s been too long since I’ve had your cock in me.”

  
“Cock. Slut.”


	5. 4/14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day at Epcot.  
> John gets drunk.  
> 17 year anniversary.

Sherlock’s eyes popped open and looked for the clock. It said 07:03. Sherlock yawned and stretched out. He kissed John on his head, then disappeared into the bathroom to void and brush his teeth. He came back to bed to see his John laying on his back with his erection straight up in the air. Sherlock grinned to himself. Carefully he removed the blankets from John’s limbs. He didn’t need to insight a panic attack in his husband. Sherlock pressed the image of his husband into his mind palace.  
“John.” Sherlock said, in his soft whine. “Stay calm, my love. I’m going to crouch between your legs. Is that ok, my love?”  
“Yes, ‘Lock.” John murmured, sleepily.   
Sherlock grinned and laid down between his husband’s thighs. He reached out to touch John’s thighs with feather light touches. John’s erection grew full under those elegant violinist fingers. Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows. He wanted to take his time with John’s orgasm, but he couldn’t be too patient. He craved John’s release in the way he used to crave cocaine. Sherlock reached out to steady John’s erections, so he could lean over and slowly lick from base to leaking head. He forced himself to just lick from base to head with a flick at the tip. He did this over and over, feeling John’s body come online as he worked. Finally, he couldn’t control himself any longer and he swallowed his husband’s erection down. He bobbed up and down with obscene slurping noises. Sherlock enjoyed making John come multiple times, and to do that he needed to take his time and do this bit correctly. Sherlock hummed happily as John’s hands flew to Sherlock’s head as John finally realized what was happening. John pulled Sherlock’s hair causing Sherlock to whine.   
“Faster, slut.” he managed to choke out. Sherlock chuckled, but worked harder. “‘Lock!” John moaned, finally coming down Sherlock’s throat. Sherlock sucked greedily until he was sure John was done coming. Sherlock pulled off John’s cock with a pop, and crawled up to him. Sherlock kissed his husband’s cheek, shyly.   
“Good morning, my love.” Sherlock said in his slightly sleep tinged velvet voice.   
“Hello my darling cock slut.” John grinned at him, pulling him into his arms. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” He shook his head, still feeling shy, but happy. “Oh, my.” John teased, feeling his husband settle into his arms. “Your brain is so loud this morning. What’s going on in there?”  
“You.” he said, obtusely.   
“Hey, talk to me.”   
“Iwanttocomeinyourarse” Sherlock mumbled, quickly.   
John took a deep breath, and replayed the words in his head. “Nope. Message is garbled. Try again?”  
“I want something I know you hate.”   
“What do you want?”  
Sherlock lowered his head, hiding his face in John’s armpit. “I want to come in your arse, but I don’t want to ask because then I’ll feel like I’m bullying you into it.”  
John sighed, then lifted his husband’s chin up. “I hate when you come multiple times in my arse. It feels squishy. I don’t mind it once in a while. Your head is so black and white. I like bottoming for you, especially when you ask me to do it.” John put emphasis on the word “especially.”   
Sherlock listened to the words, then replayed them. “So you’ll do it.”  
“Of course, my lover.”  
“Now?” Sherlock hid his face in John’s armpit again blushing red. John giggled.   
“Why are you so shy about this? You plowed me the other night, quite successfully.”  
“Because.” Sherlock said, not picking his head up. So there was a processing delay for John to understand. “I don’t want to fuck you. I want. Sweet kisses and gentle touches.”  
“You are craving...” John would never called it “making love” especially to Sherlock. He’d stop all action. “Sex instead of playing.” Sherlock nodded. “That’s awesome, my darling. I love having sex with you.”  
“And I can come in your arse?”  
“Yes, Sherlock.” John said, smiling. “Why don’t you go shower? When you’re done, I’ll hop in.”   
Sherlock nodded, then said. “I want you to ride me in the chair.”  
“Ok, my king.” John said, watching his husband get up and go bathe. John picked up his phone and texted Greg.  
Hey! How’s London? JW  
Quiet without the Watsons. GL  
Molly says Hello! GL  
Hello, Molly! JW  
What’s up? GL  
Sherlock. JW  
What happened? GL  
It’s like he forgot how to ask for what he wants. We just spent 10 minutes to figure out what he wants. JW  
You apparently broke the boy. GL  
Good lord. It feels like that. JW  
How are the brothers doing? GL  
They’re behaving mostly. Rosie demands it. JW  
Gotta get back to work. Don’t really break the boy. GL  
Bye, Greg. Be safe. JW

John thought of calling Mrs. Hudson but he decided he’d leave that to his dear husband. He heard Sherlock turn the shower off and stood up to join him in the bathroom. John walked in as Sherlock was towel-drying his hair.   
“Are you ok, love?” John asked.   
“I think I want to take the buspar daily. Yesterday was so peaceful up here. My head was still firing on all pistons but-” Sherlock cut himself off. “I’m taking it today, but I don’t know about when we’re home.”   
John pulled him into his arms, and covered his face with sweet, chaste kisses. “You’re thinking far too much, my lover.” John said, between kisses. He worked along his husband’s jaw line and finally kissed Sherlock perfect lips gently. Sherlock wrapped his arms around John’s neck and kissed him back. They kissed for ages, hands running over backs and arms. Little satisfied noises emanating from them both.   
“Can we sit down?” Sherlock asked, searching John’s eyes. John took his hand and led him over to the chair. Sherlock sat down on the arm chair. John kneeled in front of him. He kissed up Sherlock’s legs, running his hands ahead of his lips. Sherlock was moaning softly, enjoying John’s touch. At Sherlock’s scraped knees, John gently kissed them reverently. Finally, John was at his husband’s penis.   
“I’m going to put my mouth on you. Green, yellow, or red?”   
Sherlock idly played with John’s hair, thinking. “No thank you.” John’s eyebrows shot up in a questioning look. “I want kisses and strokes.”  
John smiled and stood between Sherlock’s legs. “Thank you my darling man for asking for what you want.” John kissed him, cupping the nape of his neck with his left hand. With his free hand, he snaked it down between them to stroke Sherlock’s hard on. Sherlock moaned around John’s lips. He couldn’t help it. He loved John Watson best in this entire world. Today Sherlock was snuggly, and wanted the sweeter things in life. John’s mouth wandered down Sherlock neck, kissing, licking, and biting. Sherlock moaned, loudly in John’s ear sounding shivers down his spine.   
“John.” Sherlock breathed in that whiney voice of his that John loved. “Ride me please.” Sherlock said wantonly in his ear.   
John grinned, then murmured. “Let me grab the lube, and then with pleasure.” John walked over to the bag from the other other night and pulled out the “good stuff”. John also grabbed a wet towel and a dry towel. He brought them over to Sherlock. He threw the two towels on the bed. “Baby, I have to put your cock in my mouth, even for just a second, please?” John said, staring him in the eye. Sherlock waved his hand imperiously, as if it was a matter of no importance to him. John very quickly indulged himself in tasting his husband, then set to work to please his husband. Sherlock quickly slicked his cock up for John to slide down on. “I’m going to go slowly, husband mine.” John groaned as he very slowly worked his way on Sherlock’s erection. Sherlock sighed in satisfaction once John was fully seated. John slowly rode Sherlock’s cock sliding up and down. Sherlock aided his movements by moving his hips with him. Sherlock leaned forward, panting widly and grasped his neck. He moaned John’s own name in his ear and tugged at his hair.  
“John. ooooh, my love… Joooohn.” He said, in John’s ear on purpose. Sherlock used his free hand to stroke John’s eager dick. “Ready again, my dear old man?” he teased, leaning in and licking John’s ear.   
John shivered, and sputtered “Fuuuck”  
“Faster, John, please.” Sherlock whined in his ear again. John sped up his thrusts, while Sherlock’s hand matched it. “God, John. I’m so close. Help me come apart, husband mine.” John moved his hips faster while Sherlock’s hand and hips mimicked John. “Fuck me, John.” Sherlock said in John’s ear feeling himself lose control. John rode him through the orgasm, and was just as lost as he was shortly after. John was floating, and Sherlock was landing. He sighed, happily and pulled John to his chest. “I love you so much.”   
“You too.” John managed to say, with a pat on Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock laughed, and his laughter was so sweet to John he joined him. They laughed for five minutes straight. John finally got sick of feeling sticky. He kissed his husband, then went for a shower. Sherlock cleaned himself up and discarded the towels in a pile on the floor.   
Sherlock went into the drawer, pulled out his clothing. Slowly he got himself dressed. He picked up his phone. The time was 09:37. There were 5 messages. 4 from Rosie and Mycroft, 1 from Lestrade.  
London misses you. Come home, soon? GL  
Sherlock chuckled, then replied as below.  
You sent this to the wrong Holmes in your phone. Mycroft’s contacts will follow SW

Hi Dad! Hi Papa! We’re heading to the park, early. I wanted to get something to eat there RW  
Hi brothers mine. We’ll meet you at noon at the international gate. MH   
Hope all is well. MH  
DADS, stop having sex and RESPOND XO RW  
Good morning, daughter mine, brother mine. Dad and I just woke up. xoxo SW  
Papa, you have been up since 4 a.m. Don’t lie. RW  
Go play with your uncle. SW  
We’re in line for Spaceship Earth. MH  
I told you not to tell him! RW  
Lame. SW  
Go be gross with Dad. See you at Noon xo RW

John emerged from the shower with a grin. He got dressed quickly and tackled his husband onto the bed. He planted kissed all over Sherlock’s face. “You were amazing, Sherlock Watson. That sex was incredible. Fantastic. Brilliant. Amazing.” John kissing Sherlock everywhere he could.   
Sherlock started laughing, and hugged his husband. “Stop! Your kisses are going to kill me.”   
John giggled. “You said you wanted kisses.”  
Sherlock giggled more. “So my love, seventeen years ago you hobbled into my life. Do you realize that-”   
“Oh!” John grinned. “Hence the sex, not the playing.”   
Sherlock beamed at his husband. “It was the best day of my life until that point. In fact, I started separating my life into John and before John.”   
John kissed Sherlock’s throat, and giggled again. “What was the best day of your life?”  
“The day you came home permanently. What was yours?”  
“The first day Rosie called you “Dad” in public. You answered her like you had been waiting for her to call you that. It made my heart bleed.”   
“You’re a romantic.”   
“And you’re a cock slut.” John grinned, rolling off Sherlock. “Hungry.” he got pizza out and offered a slice to Sherlock. He ate ravenously. John joined him. They sat in silence and walked the animals out of the window.   
Sherlock looked at the time, and sighed. “Come on, love. Let’s go wait for the car.” John grabbed his bag and his hat. He waited for Sherlock to join him. As Sherlock drew closer, he noticed a heart patch with the initials of JHW stitched on it.   
“You’re a romantic.” John grinned at him.   
“Today’s the day that changed my life, so yes, I’m celebrating it. I’m really celebrating you John Hamish, and all you’ve brought into my life.” Sherlock took his husband’s hand and pulled him down to wait for the car. He monologued happily about where they’d explore that day. He also talked about all the sweets he planned to eat. John was beaming.   
“I love you, Sherlock!” John said, suddenly. He pulled his husband in for a tender kiss.  
“John.” he grinned, actually quite pleased. “You are disgusting.”  
“Mr. Holmes?”   
“I am Mr. Holmes, the younger, yes.” Sherlock smiled at him, and then go into the car. John snuggled in close to Sherlock. “John.” he said, suddenly. “You know I’m yours, right?”  
“Of course I do, you idiot. I question many things, but never you or your love for me.”   
“I called myself “Mr. Holmes, the younger” but I’m not that guy anymore.”  
“Ah, love. You are a Holmes and a Watson and a Papa and a husband.” John said, contently.   
“No, John. I am yours and that alone.”   
“Don’t sell yourself short, my lover. You are the World’s Only Consulting Detective.”   
“And World’s Best Papa!” Sherlock grinned. “Rosie has already told me so.”  
“Seventeen years ago, I was convinced I was going to bed dead at the end of the day. I-” John shook his head. “Then I met your crazy ass and life burst into- something worth having.”   
“I’m so glad you didn’t commit suicide. I know I wouldn’t be here if you had died.”  
“Thank fuck for Mike Stamford.” John kissed Sherlock’s cheek.  
“We’re here!” Sherlock cried happily wiggling in his seat. “Bag check, then pastry!”  
“I need coffee, love.” John said, climbing out of the car.   
“I want a treat.”  
“This morning wasn’t enough for you?”  
“Oh no, sir. That was just a taste.” Sherlock flirted with his husband.  
“God damn, ‘Lock.” John giggled. Hand in hand they walked up to the bag check. John got through first. He shot a quick text to Mycroft.  
Sherlock is very affectionate today. Prepare yourself. Do not fuck this up! JW  
“Rude.”  
“Dude, your brother is a giant cock.” John replied.  
Sherlock giggled, then crowed like a rooster. “Of course he is! It’s the umbrella up his arse.”   
John giggle and tapped his magic band to get in the park. He patiently waited for his husband. They hooked hands once he was free. John didn’t budge. “Sherlock, my love.” Sherlock wrinkled his eyebrows at him. “You do know that you’ve been lured here under false pretense. There is no plant faire.” Sherlock blinked at him, confused. “Did you picture booths explaining Botany?”  
Sherlock’s shoulders slumped, then he nodded. “Mycroft!” He exclaimed.   
“So this was his plan?” John inquired.  
Sherlock nodded. “That pig fucking bastard.” They started to walk into the park.   
“Oh, ‘Lock!” John exclaimed.   
“I know I’ve been duped.”  
“But you get to snuggle me.” John grinned.  
“And all the sex!” Sherlock grinned. “Coffee cart just up here.”  
John followed him to it and waited while Sherlock picked his pastry. Sherlock also ordered John coffee and some super sweet drink for him. John was happy because sherlock was happy. They found a wall to perch on. John sipped his coffee, while Sherlock ate his giant donut.   
Occasionally John would mutter a ridiculous deduction like “See that redhead over there? He fucked an octopus last night.” Sherlock giggled, grinned, ate his donut, and kicked his legs.   
“Baby, your deductions are amazing.”  
“I didn’t even know cephalopod fucking was a thing, but that guy is killing it.”   
“Hi Dads!” Rosie called, after snapping a photo of the two of them giggling.  
“Rosie, come save your Papa from himself.”   
“That’s a huge donut!”   
“It’s average to poor in taste. You want?”   
Mycroft grabbed a piece of it, and ate it. Sherlock held it out to him. Rosie snatched it away from him. Sherlock slyly placed his coffee down and tackled Mycroft to the ground. “Myc! My hands are sticky and wet! How happy for you!” Sherlock started touching Mycroft all over his exposed skin.   
“You are a foul beast!” He shouted, wriggling under Sherlock’s weight. Rosie snapped pictures. John was laughing too hard to be of assistance.   
“Are we going to start our trip around the world?”  
“Yes!” Sherlock said, rolling off Mycroft’s body. He stood up, then held his hand out to Mycroft. “Lame!” he said at Mycroft stood up himself.   
Sherlock hooked his arm through Mycroft’s unwilling arm, and pulled it away from Sherlock. “You are an absolute arse!”   
“I’m just trying to love my brother!” Sherlock said. “Why won’t you let me?”   
Rosie giggled, and took John’s hand. “Those boys never grew up did they?”  
“I’ve known your Papa for seventeen years and I promise you, not once in those years did I see any sort of maturity from either of them. You are more mature than either of them.”   
They toured around the world, and really enjoyed themselves. In Mexico, they all enjoyed a frozen margarita. Virgin for the two children, double tequila for the adults. In Norway, Sherlock badgered them all into riding Frozen Ever After, and sang as much as possible. John had a frosty Norwegian ale. Rosie enjoyed seeing her parents so happy. Mycroft just suffered in silence.   
Rosie made them all wait in China to meet Mulan. Mycroft was beyond thrilled to indulge his niece. John managed to find a disgustingly sweet tea drink for Sherlock. They went to Italy next where they all had gelato. Sherlock got a double scoop while John found himself an Italian beer to enjoy.   
They circled back to Germany and explored the tiny lobby. Rosie got herself a new stuffed animal and Mycroft talked Sherlock out of two caramel apples.   
They managed to get dinner at the Biergarten. Mycroft hated the polka, but John really enjoyed himself. He had two huge beers. He was giggly, happy, and snuggly. Sherlock smirked, knowing he’d pass out the moment they got back to the room.   
“Love.” Sherlock said to him, before they left the restaurant. “Did you bring your earbuds?” John squinted at him, and handed him his backpack.  
“In the little pouch.” He confirmed, with a stupid grin on his face.  
“There are going to be fireworks playing when we leave. Will you put your earbuds in and listen to violin music?”  
John nodded, and tried to open his backpack. Sherlock kindly pushed his hands away, and dug out the cinderella earbuds. John stood stock still as Sherlock’s deft fingers applied the earbuds. Sherlock plugged it in and lowered the volume. He turned on John’s favorite piece. John’s eyes lit up. “I love this one!”  
Sherlock smiled kindly and kissed his husband. He helped John put his backpack on, then firmly took his hand. He double-squeezed it, and received a kiss back. He tucked his husband’s phone in his pocket, and followed Sherlock out of the building.   
Rosie and Mycroft had already found seats to watch the fireworks. Sherlock joined them as the show started. Sherlock sat on a wall, and pulled John between his legs. Sherlock tapped his shoulder and pointed up. John glanced up, then shook his head. He turned his body towards Sherlock’s chest, and hid his face. Sherlock laughed and hugged his sweetheart.   
Sherlock loved fireworks. The explosions, the music, the atmosphere. He hated that they were a trigger to John and wondered absently if that was why he drank so much today. He pushed that train of thought away and enjoyed the show. He felt satisfied at the conclusion of the show. He kissed the top of John’s head, and saw John was trying to read a book on his phone. Sherlock pushed him away from himself and pulled him to join the crowd. John put the phone away and followed in Sherlock’s wake.   
Unsure if John could hear him, he kept up a string of praises. “John! You’re doing so well. I’m really proud of you. Working through the crowd and not even getting uptight. You’re doing amazing, love. I’m so proud of you.” John heard everything Sherlock was saying as his music ended and he forgot how to restart it. John was grinning when he pulled up behind him as they waited for the car.  
“Thank you,’Lock.” John muttered, leaning into his back. “My music turned off.” He said, confused. Sherlock grinned at his husband, and turned it back on. “‘Lock!” He exhaled, happily. “You fixed it!” John started humming happily. Rosie spotted the car, and called to her parents. They joined her and climbed in. John snuggled into Sherlock and fell asleep.   
“Happy anniversary, lover.” Sherlock whispered, kissing his forehead.   
John felt the kiss, and clutched at his husband’s shirt in response. Thinking to himself, “Thank you for today” not realizing those words never left his mouth.


	6. 5/14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full chapter!  
> The hand squeezing thing that JW and SH do is something my kids and I do. Especially when we're in public. <3

When John Watson woke the next day, he felt like he was forgetting something important. He thought about it, but couldn’t come up with anything that he was forgetting. He knew he was on vacation with his husband and kid. Ah well, John thought as he stretched his body out with a moan. At the sound, Sherlock next to him stirred. “Good morning, my lover.” John said, kissing Sherlock awake.  
“I’m online now.” Sherlock muttered, grinning. “Good morning to you, too.” He poked his chest, with his finger. “How’s your head?”  
“Well, it’s been worse.” John smiled, kindly. He snuggled into his husband’s arms. “Where are we going today?”  
“Breakfast at 10 am at Ohana.” Sherlock said, then his entire body started wiggling. “We’re MEETING STITCH!”  
“Yes my love.” John said, rolling over on him. Sherlock was flat on his back, and John’s hips were resting on Sherlock’s. “I’m going to hold you down.”  
“Can’t lay still. We’re meeting Stitch.”  
Suddenly that thing John couldn’t remember came back to him. “So, 17 years, huh?”  
“Yes! I remembered all on my own.” Sherlock said, proudly.  
“Of course you did. That head of yours is so full of everything. It’s amazing how you even remembered who I am.”  
“You’re my John Watson. Of course I remember you.”  
“Thank you for yesterday. You were all sorts of amazing.” John grinned at him. He pulled himself up to the sitting position. “I want to suck your dick.” John announced.  
“What?” Sherlock asked, with a blink.  
“I.” John said, kissing Sherlock’s chest. “Want. To. Suck. Your. Dick.” He planted kisses down Sherlock’s stomach. “And. Since. I’m. The. Boss.” John continued kissing and moving his body down in between Sherlock’s legs. “I’m. Going. To. Suck. Your. Dick.” Finally John’s lips were just above Sherlock’s crop of dark pubic hair. He kissed down through it, and finally reached Sherlock’s engorged cock. “On second thought.” John giggled, and leaned over into the bureau to pull out the lube. John slicked up Sherlock’s cock. Slowly he impaled himself onto Sherlock’s cock.  
“Arrrgh, John!” Sherlock said, as he flexed his hips a bit feeling John all around him.  
“I’m going to ride you, and tell you absolutely filthy things.” John promised, slowly riding Sherlock’s dick. “Sherlock, sometimes when you’re deducting, I think about pinning you against the wall and sucking your cock in front of all the Yard. I think about that fantastic little throaty nose-That one there.” John sped up a bit, and shivered at the animalistic throat noise Sherlock made. “I close my eyes and feel your cock” John popped the C and the CK sound in the word. “Heavy in my mouth and your wooly Belstaff around me. I feel your fingers in my hair, pulling it.” Sherlock reached out and tugged on John’s hair. “Harder, you slut.” John said, commandingly. Sherlock tugged at John’s hair. “What a good slut you are.”  
“John.” Sherlock panted, tilting his hips up to meet John’s “I think you’re the slut.”  
“Excuse me?” John said as he stopped riding Sherlock. Sherlock gasped, and started bucking his hips harder.  
“You’re the one who woke me with a kiss, then said I’m going to suck your dick, then rode me.”  
John stood up, and got off Sherlock’s lap. “Fuck you.” He called, as John stalked off towards the bathroom. Sherlock giggled. The game was on, afterall. Sherlock gave John a minute to think he was safe. Sherlock stepped quietly into the bathroom, where John was masturbating. Sherlock came up behind him, and reached around to still John’s hand.  
“My dearest cock slut.” Sherlock said, dangerously low. In one swift movement Sherlock entered John’s arse again. “You are playing with fire and I am going to fuck you hard to remind you I’m not a toy.”  
“Yes, you are!” John said, moaning. Sherlock moved his hips faster into John. Sherlock bit John’s neck, and then gave little bites down John’s spine. John arched his back into his husband.  
“I’m going to come in your arse.” Sherlock warned him, fucking him harder. There were bruises already fading on John’s hips that Sherlock pressed his fingers into. “John Hamish Watson, you are my slut. Say it.” Sherlock commanded.  
“William Sherlock Scott Watson, you are my slut.” John said, grinning.  
Sherlock grabbed a fistful of John’s hair, and fucked him harder. “Say it.”  
“I’m yours.” John panted, enjoying the pain. “I’m your cock slut.”  
Sherlock came once those words were out of John’s mouth. He pulled out of John’s arse, and fell to his knees. He turned John around and pulled John’s dick into his mouth. Sherlock worked John’s cock like a pro and had John orgasming in less than five minutes. Delicately, Sherlock wiped his mouth. “You shouldn’t throw stones if you can’t handle the blowback.” Sherlock stood up, and turned the water back on.  
John looked at him. “You aren’t even making any sense.”  
“I fucked you until I was senseless.” Sherlock said, trying to sound like he knew what he was saying. Sherlock started washing himself while John stared at him. They were both in the shower, but John was staring at him.  
“I don’t even know what happened here. I was going to suck your dick, and now I’m a slut.” John said, shaking his head.  
Sherlock was washing his hair, and watching John to see what he was going to do. “You’ve always been a slut.”  
“Will you get the fuck out of my shower?” John asked, giggling. There was no bite in his words. He wished he could put some there, but he had no clue what was going on.  
“Say you’re a slut.” Sherlock asked, rinsing his hair.  
“You’re a slut.” John grinned at him. “You enjoy fucking and sucking my cock. You think about it all the time.”  
“That’s you.” Sherlock pointed out. “I solve murders and raise our daughter.”  
“Alone?” John asked.  
“Not alone, no, but you are bored at your job. I am not.”  
John jumped on Sherlock, and bit around Sherlock’s collar. “Take it back.”  
“Take what back? You’re a cock slut and it’s the TRUTH!” Sherlock was giggling. John was very happy, but still pretending to be angry.  
“You’re a bad man, Sherlock Watson.”  
“You’re a bad husband, John Watson.”  
“You’re full of shit!” John giggled, then kissed Sherlock.  
“Can you stop fighting with me?”  
“I will stop fighting with you, as soon as you admit that you’re a cock slut.”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I am a cock slut for you, and you alone John Watson.”  
“The same goes for me, Sherlock. I’m a cock slut for you and you alone, Sherlock Watson.”  
Sherlock stepped out of the shower, and turned to his husband with a wink. “Damn right you are because you’re a bigger cock slut than I am.” Sherlock grabbed a towel, and ran out of the bathroom.  
John laughed loudly, but got on with his shower. When he came out of the bathroom, after bathing, brushing his teeth and shaving his face, he looked at Sherlock who was lounging like a blissed out cat. “You shaved.” Sherlock pouted.  
“It was too itchy.” John shrugged. “I wish I had brought your flogger.”  
“Mmm?” Sherlock asked, still pouting about John shaving his beard.  
“Your flogger. Or your violin bow. Or your crop.”  
Sherlock looked at John innocently. “You want to hurt me?”  
“Yes, I want to hit your arse until it’s red and then I want to fuck you.” John said, keeping his face innocent. Sherlock tinged red, and had no response to make. John turned to the dresser and pulled clothes out. He quickly got dressed before Sherlock could come back to himself. “You are a dirty whore, Sherlock Watson.”  
“Am I?” Sherlock squeaked, staring at him.  
“Yes! Telling me filthy things that makes me want to fuck you hard again. Naughty Sherlock.” John grinned at him, then pulled his own socks on.  
“John Watson, your brain is diseased.” Sherlock said, seriously.  
John laughed so much he held his belly in glee. “I love you, husband mine.”  
“We need to pack our swimsuits.” Sherlock said, ignoring the loving comment.  
“Hey, you cock. I said I love you.”  
“Of course you do.” Sherlock said, then sighed. “Johhhhhn. We’ve been married for nearly 13 years. Of course I love you, idiot.”  
“Oh good.” John grinned, grabbed their swimsuits and shoved them in Sherlock’s bag. “What else?”  
“Sandals?” Sherlock asked.  
John nodded and grabbed them for both the men. “Can we go? I’ve never been to the Polynesian.”  
“Ok, sounds great to me.” Sherlock said, grabbing his phone. He picked up John’s phone too. John waited for Sherlock to pick up his bag, and come over to the door. Hand in hand, they walked down to the buses. Sherlock sent a text to Mycroft and Rosie.  
Heading over to Poly. See you there for 09:45. XO SH  
Wait! The car is here! Xo RW.  
Sherlock’s head snapped up and looked around. He saw the car, and pulled John over to it. He pushed his husband in, and crawled in behind John. He sat next to Mycroft. A vibration in his hand made him look down at his phone. A private message from Mycroft.  
Do ask your dear husband not to mar my brother’s skin so much. I can see marks at your collar. MH  
I like it. Mind your own marks. SH  
Oh, right. No one touches the Ice Man. SH  
Grow up. MH  
Sherlock smirked, before he could type an answer. “Boys.” Rosie said, sounding a lot like John. “Can we not fight?”  
“He’s telling me to grow up.”  
“Uncle Myc, don’t hold your breath for that to happen.” Rosie turned to her Papa. “Papa, don’t be a baby.”  
John made a big grin, and looked at the two brothers with “why am I even here?” look. “What a smart daughter we have.”  
“Clever girl!” Rosie agreed, with a grin. She leaned into her Dad and laid her head down on his shoulder. “Papa, are you going to behave yourself with Stitch?”  
“Yes of course I am. I am grown up.” Sherlock said, adjusting his shoulders.  
“Papa.” Rosie said with authority. “You must behave yourself! You are modeling behavior that I must either learn or punish.”  
“Punish?!” Sherlock looked at his daughter, and rolled his eyes. “Who do you think you are?”  
“Your boss.”  
John burst out laughing. “If you think you’re going to get your Dad to behave you are living in a dream world.”  
“Why shouldn’t Papa behave? Uncle Myc is a gentleman and listens to his Rosie.”  
“How much of Uncle Myc’s behavior is your influence?” Sherlock asked.  
Rosie stood up in the back of the car and threw herself onto her Papa’s lap. “I will squish you to death, Papa!” She said, trying to press her weight on him.  
“Jesus.” John said. “Are you wound up too?” He asked her.  
“Yes, she is. She’s been up since 03:00. Don’t deny it Rosie. I saw you composing.” Mycroft answered.  
“Is this the water park’s influence?” John asked.  
Rosie nodded, while her Papa wiggled under her. “Sit still, Papa. I can’t squish you to death if you are wiggling.”  
“That’s the plan.” Sherlock giggled, hugging his kid.  
“Mycroft, I think you and I should disappear today and let the two children manage themselves.”  
“John, that sounds splendid, however, I think that we need to be around the children lest they drown.”  
John nodded, teasing. “Plus everyone wants to see you in your swim attire.”  
“Rude.” Mycroft grinned.  
“Dude, don’t deny that you’re-”  
“Gross, John. Stop hitting on my brother.”  
“I’m just saying the first day we were here he got some action.” John pointed out.  
“Dad, stop. You’re being gross.” Rosie said.  
“We’re here!” Sherlock said, trying to wiggle Rosie off his lap. “Get up, get up, get up!”  
“Stop, Papa!” Rosie giggled, feeling very silly. Mycroft and John got out of the car, leaving the two children giggling and fighting. They spilled out of the car, and linked arms giggling. They walked into the gorgeous hotel. “Bad, Uncle Myc!” Rosie said. “Why aren’t we staying here?”  
“Because, my darling girl, I’ve picked better places.” Sherlock said, with a grin. “Plus your Uncle Myc can’t even tie his shoes.”  
“Yes I can!” Mycroft said, with a sideways glance.  
John walked away from the three bickering people, and went into the shop at the hotel. He looked around, and found a nice swim shirt for himself. He pulled his phone out, and texted his husband.  
Found a new swim shirt. Want it. Can I buy? JW  
I want one too! SH  
It’s aqua. JW  
Do they have Macaws? SH  
No. They have red that would look lovely! JW  
“I want it!” Sherlock said, appearing beside John. John found Sherlock’s size, and pulled it down.  
John grinned at Sherlock, and stood up on his tippy toes to whisper, “You know only cock sluts wear this shade of red.” John giggled to himself as he walked off to pay for the shirts.  
Rosie found her Papa standing where John left him. “You ok, Papa?”  
“Your father is a gigantic jerk!”  
“What has he done now?” Rosie sighed. “If you would just remember the solar system, you wouldn’t feel this way.”  
“No it’s not that! He’s insulting my honor! Calling me all sorts of terrible names. He told me I’m disreputable! I’m not!”  
“Yes you are, love.” John said, walking back over to him after paying. He kissed his husband’s cheek, then walked out of the store.  
“What’cha buy Daddy? Something for the princess?”  
“Oh, no. I bought your Papa a bright red swim shirt.”  
“Let’s head up to the restaurant. I am ready to relax for a bit.” Mycroft said, as he led the way up the stairs. John followed him leaving Rosie to tend to a sour Sherlock. They walked over to the check in stand, and waited to check in. Once they were able to check in, they were directed to wait in line to see Stitch. Mycroft engaged Rosie in a debate about the better film adaption (The Hobbit vs. Lord of the Rings). John shifted his body closer to Sherlock.  
In a voice, barely above a whisper, he said, “The game is on, Mr. Watson.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at his husband. “The great Watson sex games of 2017 have officially started.”  
Sherlock grinned as he pulled out his phone to text John.  
What are the rules? SH  
I don’t know, love. I just want to have a lot of sex with you all over this park. JW  
John replied then put his phone away. He refused to respond any more to Sherlock, because he knew that his “rules” wouldn’t satisfy Sherlock. Sherlock would state “You can’t call something a game and NOT have rules.”  
Sherlock realized that John wasn’t responding to his messages, so he tucked his own phone away. Sherlock wrapped his arms around his husband, and whispered in his ear “Cock slut.” John laughed deep in his chest, and turned towards his husband. John had a sexual glint in his eyes.  
“Yours.” He responded before he chastely kissed his husband. “Now, behave.”  
“Again, John.” Sherlock said, sighing. “You exhibit the bad behavior, and blame me.”  
“That’s the way it’s going to work, because you’re the misbehaved one.” John grinned. “Now, go meet Stitch.” John pushed his husband over to the character. Sherlock was very happy, laughing and talking. John took several pictures, then waited patiently for his husband to walk away from Stitch. Rosie pulled him away over to the couch. They all flopped down, and were just looking around. Mycroft stood with his spine straight, looking around too.  
“Relax, Myc. You’re on vacation.” Sherlock said, with a wave of his hand.  
“I’m comfortable, Sherl.” He said, with a bit of a smirk. He placed the pager on Sherlock’s shoulder, and giggled loudly when it started vibrating. Sherlock jumped, and ripped it off his shoulder. He went over to the cast member to turn it in.They followed her to a table. John sat by his husband, and Sherlock scooted his chair a bit farther away from John.  
“I’m behaving.”  
“So am I, John.” Sherlock said, primly.  
“Dad, switch seats with me.” Rosie sighed, standing up.  
“But! I didn’t do anything.”  
“Yet. You haven’t done anything yet. I’m preventing your bad behavior.” Rosie said, watching John stand up. John sat in the seat that had been Rosie’s, and pushed himself in.  
“I don’t like it over here.” John announced, placing his napkin on his lap.  
Mycroft leaned close to John, and whispered. “Jesus John. Just behave.”  
“I am behaving!” John said, as the waitress walked up. She placed the breakfast down on the table, and took drink orders. John dug in happily, eyeing Sherlock.  
“Eyes on your own plate, Dad.” Rosie said, kicking him under the table.  
“Rosie! You’re so mean today!”  
Mycroft reached down, and pinched John’s thigh. “Just stop it, you.”  
John turned to Mycroft, and said, “Did you really just pinch me?”  
“Like I used to pinch Sherlock, yes.”  
“Don’t do that.” John said, rubbing the spot on his thigh. For just a moment, he felt like a kid again because his gran used to pinch his thighs.  
Sherlock’s eyes were bright with muted laughter. “What has John done? Leave him be.”  
“Oh, now it’s all “leave my Johnny alone.” Lame.” Mycroft said, with a yawn.  
“Your uncle is weird.” John said, turning back to the table.  
“Papa, where are we going today?”  
“Disney’s first water park, Typhoon Lagoon.”  
“Wrong.” Rosie said, with a grin.  
“Typhoon Lagoon is Disney’s first water park.”  
“No it wasn’t, Papa. You’re forgetting River Country.” Rosie said, enjoying that she was able to correct her Papa.  
“John, what is your daughter talking about?”  
Rosie looked at him, and then laughed. “Papa. River Country. It’s a now abandoned, but it was a small water park opened in the late 70’s.” She looked at him, as if she was waiting for him to say “Oh yes, I remember.”  
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”  
“Rosie, your father isn’t understanding. Can you explain it differently?”  
“When did Typhoon Lagoon open?”  
“June 1, 1989.”  
“Ok, River Country opened June 20, 1976.”  
“That’s a full thirteen years later, babe.” John pointed out.  
Sherlock squinted at Rosie, as he pulled his phone out to do a google search. “She’s right! How did I not know about this? John, did you know about this?”  
“No, my love.”  
“Myc?”  
“No, brother mine.”  
“We have to go here! John, I insist you take me at once. I’m a detective. I need to be aware of all mysteries the moment they are discovered.”  
“Papa,” Rosie said, looking at him, in surprise. “This has been ongoing since 2005.”  
“How did I not know this?” Sherlock asked, scrolling through his phone. “John, take me there, now.” he whined, as Mickey Mouse walked over to the table. Rosie jumped up to hug him. John took a picture and waved as Mickey walked away.  
“Sherlock, we’re not here for mysteries.” John said.  
“John! Sherlock whined, frustrated.  
“Sherlock, we’ll look into it on another day.” John said, in a very upset tone. Sherlock picked up on John’s tone more than understanding why there was a tone.  
“You’re right, I’m sorry John.” Sherlock said, turning his phone off.  
“I’m sorry, Papa. I should have told you about it sooner.” Rosie said.  
“Shall we crack on, then?” Mycroft asked, signaling the waitress for the bill.  
“John, can I talk to you apart from the group?” Sherlock asked, standing up. John nodded, and picked up his backpack. He reached out to Sherlock, and took his hand. They walked out of the restaurant, and started to walk down the steps.  
“Hey, what’s going on in that head of yours?” John asked, placing his hand on Sherlock’s temple.  
“I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to get drawn into that mystery.”  
“It’s ok, Sherlock. I know how you operate. I’m not mad at you.”  
“Rosie surprised me, that’s all.”  
“I’m not upset.” John said, calmly.  
“It’s quite intriguing though, John. I mean, why would a multi-billion dollar company just abandon something like that?”  
“Honestly, Sherlock, I don’t know. I know that telling you to place it on the back burner isn’t going to happen, but I need you to stay focused on the trip.”  
“Do you think that maybe some bureaucrats decided to close down the park?” Sherlock asked, chewing his lip.  
“Yes that is probably what happened.”  
“Maybe someone got hurt and they decided to close it to protect their pocket books?”  
“That sounds very probable.” John nodded, pulling him down the steps. “Can you live with that until more data becomes available?”  
“Yes, my love.” Sherlock nodded, walking down the steps. They walked down to where the lobby of the hotel was, waiting for Rosie and Mycroft. They looked around the room in awe. There were tiki men, flora, and fountains scattered throughout the room. It was nice.  
“Are we taking the bus, Dad?” Rosie asked, as they walked over to her dads.  
“Yes, we are! Typhoon Lagoon, here we come!” Sherlock grinned at his little family.  
“Your knees ok, Sherl?” Mycroft asked, noting the abrasions on them, suddenly.  
“Fine. How’s your back old man?”  
“Never better.” Mycroft grinned, then pulled Rosie out to the bus.  
Sherlock giggled, and followed them. John came along with Sherlock. Quietly John said, “If they’re so fine, I must not have done my job very well. Don’t worry, my love, I’ll fix that.” John kissed the back of Sherlock’s neck, then climbed on the bus. Sherlock shivered, and followed his husband. They sat together near the front.  
Sherlock kept his eyes focused on the scenery. He was lost in John’s promise. “Were you serious, John?” Sherlock muttered, but didn’t move his eyes away from the window.  
“Of course I am, love.” John smiled at him, then took his hand. “If it isn’t clear by now, I’m just going to say “I can’t wait to fuck you again.””  
Sherlock shivered again, but didn’t respond. He squeezed John’s hand twice, meaning “Understood” instead of the traditional “I love you. I’m here. I’ve got your back.”  
They got to the Water Park, and it was like every other Disney park. They went through bag check, then scanned their bands, then their fingers. They finally made it inside the park. Rosie grabbed a map, and found somewhere to sit. They made their plan of attack, and went to the locker rooms to change. In the locker room, Mycroft told the two grown men off for marring each other’s skin. He really laid into John, seeing as Sherlock bruised easily.  
“Myc, maybe you should piss off, yeah?” John said, dismissing his bitching.  
“John, really. I would have thought you’d be the more reasonable of the two of you.”  
“Does it bother you more that Sherlock’s happy or that Sherlock found someone who isn’t related to him that can compete with him mentally, physically, and emotionally?”  
“John, why do you assume it bothers me?”  
“You just told us off for marring each other’s skin and we’re fucking married. 12 years ago, we signed some papers and became officially family.”  
Mycroft blinked at John, but didn’t argue. “Sherlock, are you ready?”  
“No, Myc. I want to know why this upsets you? Is it pure jealousy?” Sherlock asked. “Or do you have…. FEELINGS all of a sudden and are lashing out?”  
Mycroft sniffed in displeasure. “I’m going to find Rosie.”  
John looked at his husband and shook his head. “Your brother needs to find his own goldfish.”  
“I, for the record John my lover, never thought you were a goldfish.”  
“If I thought for one second you thought I was a goldfish, I’d have walked away years ago.” John said. He held his hand out to his husband who took it, and went back out to the park. They explored the park for a few hours.  
Rosie finally brought up lunch, and the men readily agreed. Sherlock and John were ignoring Mycroft, but he was ignoring them too. They ate lunch civilly, but split up quickly after lunch again. John went for a walk around the park, just to see things. Excitedly, he came back less than ten minutes later. John pulled Sherlock with him. “Where are we going?” Sherlock asked.  
“Shh. Just follow me.” John said, pulling him into a room that was marked “Out of order.”  
“Where are we?”  
John giggled. He slammed his husband against the wall, and kissed him. Sherlock exhaled loudly. “Silent.” John growled, pulling Sherlock’s curls. Suddenly Sherlock wanted to be as loud as possible.John turned his husband around, and pulled his swim trunks down. “If you make any noise, I’m going to stop all sexual activity for the rest of the trip.” John warned, pulling his own penis out of his swim trunks.  
“How can I be silent?” Sherlock asked, whining.  
John ran his tongue up Sherlock’s neck to his earlobe where he nibbled. “Shove something in that slutty mouth of yours.” John tugged on the curls again, and bit Sherlock’s neck where there was some marks from earlier that day. (Was it earlier that day? John couldn’t remember) He used his hands to pull Sherlock’s arse cheeks apart. John used one hand to stroke himself a few times to hardness, then shoved his erect cock in Sherlock’s arse. “Do you like it rough like this?” John whispered in his ear, as he started to slam into him. Sherlock whined, but shoved his own fist in his mouth. John teased Sherlock slowly fucking his arse, pulling almost all of the way out, then slamming back in. He increased the speed. “Sherlock!” John moaned in his husband’s ear.  
Sherlock bit his hand, hard, and tried not to moan. John continued to fuck his husband, but reached around and stroked Sherlock’s cock lazily. John was enjoying this quick fuck, and was about to say so, when he came suddenly in Sherlock’s arse. John moved his hand faster. “What a gentleman” He panted in Sherlock’s ear. “You are. Letting me go first.” Sherlock was biting his fist, and thought about slamming his head, but John pulled on the fistful of curls before he could. “You better come,” John said. “Whore.” Then he bit down Sherlock’s spine. John’s cock wasn’t erect, but he still tilted his hips into Sherlock. It pushed Sherlock into John’s hand. After doing this a few more times, Sherlock’s orgasm painted the wall. John pulled out from his husband’s arse. He planted a kiss on his cheek.  
“I love you John.” Sherlock said, when he was finally able to speak again. Sherlock pulled up his own pants, and helped John tuck himself in.  
“I love you too, my gorgeous man.” John giggled, before he crept out of the “out of order” room. Sherlock walked out, and he could have swore, he saw John remove the sign. He wasn’t fool enough to say anything.  
They enjoyed the park, until finally Rosie started whining about how tired she was. The three men who loved Rosie the best decided that it was a good idea to call the day over at 17:00. They all got changed into dry clothes, and quietly made their way to the car. Once inside, Rosie snuggled up next to Papa, and they both fell asleep.  
Once they were back at the hotel, John slung Sherlock’s arm over his shoulder, and helped him stand up. “Stay awake, baby. Just long enough to get back to the room.” he asked. “Myc, are you going to be able to carry Rosie?”  
“Yes, I am. Just take care of Sherlock.”Mycroft picked up Rosie and headed to his room. John walked slowly with Sherlock to their room. Once they got there, John helped him onto the bed. He undressed him, and tucked him into the bed. John kissed his forehead, and went to get pizza to eat. He sat on the other side of the bed, and read his book to Sherlock. John was asleep by 18:00.


	7. Goodbye

Sorry guys. I’m going to close this down for now. The muse has flown..... sorry guys


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